“ Don’t forget my birth certificate,” I scream to my dad. I was about to ride on a real dirt bike track for the first time. The day felt perfect. I was going with my best friend Louis. I got a brand new jersey and crush pads for the ride. Nothing could have been better than going dirt biking. Right?
Wrong. The practice tracks were closed so I had to ride on the professional track. I didn’t know how to handle it. We were trying to get the track off our minds by jamming out. “ Sav put on Live Like You Were Dying,” Louis utters. This was the song that got me and Louis pumped for everything. Cruising down 18 and all of a sudden BOOM.
Three cars ahead of us a car crash happened. The car was like a puzzle crumbling into a million pieces. For a moment everything stopped, pictures of me falling off my dirt bike and getting hurt were flashing in my eyes. It didn’t matter, we couldn’t be late to get in the lineup at the track.
“Hey dad my bike looks loose on the back of the car,” I say. “It's okay, we are here anyway. Don’t forget to hug your bike on the ruts, ” he responds. I look straight ahead and what I saw was incredible. Dudes jumping and sliding out, everything just looked cool. I could see it then. Me jumping, sliding,spinning and sliding out. Back to reality.
Like I
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Three, two, one.” We were off and I was ahead of Louis. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to pass any of the other riders, but it was my mission to beat Louis. I am extremely competitive. I whipped around the first turn in the inside. Louis took the outside and I was far ahead. I floored it over the whoops and the turn ahead was extremely sharp. I slowed down to get the feel for the track. I shifted down into second and slid. Up next was a tabletop jump. I had never done a jump and I didn’t know what kind it was so I was very steady. I shifted up to fourth and got massive air. “Woohoo,” I scream. I couldn't believe I just jumped on a professional track. I thought I was going to
The people who I look up to is my mom and my dad. Ever since I was born, they helped me with my problem that I have. Every day after school my mom would help me with my homework, because most of the time I don’t understand my assignment, that she knew how to do some math work, because I would forget how to answer my math, while my dad is at work. On his days off me and my dad would sometimes go fishing in the river or a lake, because he would like to spend time with. Other times we would go hunting for deer or bird, because it would be boring if we didn’t do
The last thing I wanted to learn about was jumping. This skill would be hardest but it would be crucial if I wanted to be an adventurous rider. It was very hard at first, by which I mean I would get air but crash. When I got the hang of it it was awesome it felt so great to be flying, or at least that’s what it felt like. By the end of my tenth year on this planet I was totally ready for a bigger four wheeler. Actually a four wheeler that would be twice as big as my current one at the time. So, I got a Suzuki ltz four hundred, this four wheeler was incredible I loved it a bunch. The first time I rode it I was being typical adventurous me and rolled it. That hurt pretty bad and I didn’t really want to ride anymore that day but I realized that stuff happens and if I’m still alive I’m going to keep on trucking. So, I learned all of the previous skills that I had on my old bike except this time I was much faster and way better. I was able to drag race and beat fifty percent or more of people but most of the time I’d win more. But then came winter time, I hated riding in the cold so I didn’t ride for a long time because it was a long winter. So, I also lost a lot of my
-"So our perfect outing was ruined – because of what the stunt, as my father called it, had inspired in everyone except us. 'We knew things were bad,' my father told the friends he immediately sat down to phone when we got home, 'but not like this. You had to be there to see what it looked like. They live a dream, and we live a nightmare" (Roth 281).
As I grew older, I became more mature and sophisticated. I became more knowledgeable, formed my own opinions and political views, and gained new insight into my life. I became more sociable and saw people and things in a new light. I also lose my naivety and saw who my dad truly was for the first time and that saddened me.
“In the front seat was Gregg, driving, Sarah, in the middle, and Robyn, on the passenger side. In the rear seat was Jeff, behind the driver, Haley, in the middle, and Rachel, on the passenger side. EVERYONE was wearing their SEAT BELTS, as is our family habit. EVERYONE walked away from this accident with only bruises. The only blood was Robyn had small nicks from glass in a couple of places on her right arm and right leg.
Then the accident happened and my perspective changed. I heard a scream. My sister yelled “HELP!!” I watched as what was happening was moving by me speedily, not waiting for me to catch up. It all happened in a blur as I ran out to see what happened. My brother had jumped out in front of the skid steer while it was rolling down the hill. His leg had become wedged between the van at the bottom of the hill and the skid steer fork. There was blood everywhere. My dad was not home. He was at work so he could not come right away. My mom had to move the big van
When I was seven years old I learned how to ride a bike I started of in a less bumpy place then I started in a more crowded area. I remember the feeling of the wind flowing through my hair as I rode. My step dad and step brother were both cheering me on. They yelled for me to fall over because I was rolling toward the road. I fingered the ground that was as hard as a rock. I was fine I just got up and brushed myself off.
Next week is the five year anniversary of my dads passing. He went to be with the Lord on June 14th. Seven days shy of his birthday. [Dad did everything in seven’s, it was his favorite number.] When this popped up in my Facebook Memories this morning, I started thinking about the many different examples my parents sat for me growing up. Especially the ones my father sat. I spent far more time with my mom, but the time I spent with dad was always special. Dad really did teach by example. I can remember shopping as a family. Kids want to touch everything. Dad always told me to put my hands in my pockets. If I didn’t have pockets, I was to put my arms behind my back and hold my wrist. He made sure he did whatever it was I had to do. He also told
The weight of the car pressed down on the bottom half of my body with massive force. It did not hurt simply because adrenaline pumped through me. All I could feel was the weight of the car’s hood pushing my body farther and farther into the ground. My lungs felt clamped shut and air would neither enter nor escape them. My mind was buzzing. What had just happened? In the distance, on that demonic road, I saw cars driving by completely unaware of what happened and how I felt. I tried to yell but my voice was unheard. All I could do was wait. Wait for someone to help me or wait to die.
My car is getting old, so because of normal wear and tear I perform a monthly preventive maintenance check. That means it is better to find and fix a small problem now then to discover a big expensive problem later. I start by opening the hood to check out the engine and its various components.
Pedaling my bike, I swerved left and right, dodging all sorts of trash which littered the desolate ground beneath my feet. The car was gaining ground fast; its ebony visage glaring at me like some hell-spawned demon. A cold clammy hand seemed to envelope my body. I knew I could not escape.
I dip my toes in—feels cold. My nerves rise up and spread like fire throughout my body while I watch—while I wait. Stomach hurts. All those butterflies clash and crowd. They come every time that I race—it never fails. There is so much noise—the splash of water, talking, yelling, whistling, cheering.
One Saturday night, Kasi, Beth, Beka, Amy, and I had nothing to do. Like always, at times like this, we decided we would ride around town. We let the top down on Kasi’s vehicle. It was a red Jeep Wrangler, with red interior and big mud tires. We climbed in the Jeep one by one until we were all inside. Amy, Beka, and Beth all sat in the back after a fight about who had said “shotgun” first. The back was the most uncomfortable. The Jeep was only built for two backseat passengers, so with three back there, it was a tough ride. Kasi and I slid into the front seats. We strapped on our seatbelts, trying to convince the three of them in the back to do so. Our friends did not want to bother strapping in because they were too crowded, and there were only two seatbelts anyway. I was sixteen at the time, and they were all seventeen. We were the perfect picture of youth, five young girls packed into a Jeep with shorts, sweatshirts, and ball caps on.
Logan was on his way home from an evening at the local bar. He and some friends had gone out to have a couple beers. As he sped down the road, he blinked vigorously to try to clear his vision. Although it was a perfectly clear summer night, Logan’s vision was blurred from the alcohol. “As long as I keep this car on my side of the road, I’ll be fine,” he thought to himself. He was doing a decent job of obtaining control over the vehicle, or so he thought. Only three miles from his country home, he became unaware of his position on the road as it began to curve. As he continued around the familiar curve in the road, a truck came out of nowhere at hit Logan’s small Toyota Camry head on. The big F-350 pickup truck was no comparison to the little
We both unbuckled. Thomas climbed into the back. Joe released his foot from the gas pedal and his hand from the steering wheel. As the car slowed down it drifted left. Joe positioned himself in the seat and I throw myself to the steering wheel. The car scraped on the side wall ripping the paint. He positioned myself into to the set and as he did that he saw something in the distance. Cars, lots of cars coming their way.