Is it smart to ride the pump track after 10 p.m. and several beers while your biker friends are watching?
The answer is no.
The beer-swilling friends watching will only encourage bad behavior, big air, and wrecks.
It started out really fun as people took turns speeding around the track as others shouted things like, “My 7-year-old rides faster/smoother than that.” Then the tiki torches were lit in strategic places to illuminate big air. Thank goodness only those who knew they could catch air, as well as land, attempted it. I kept silent, thanking the Goddess that the kids were in bed where they couldn’t be influenced with bad-decision making. I have no idea what it sounded like from their safe little beds.
Of course there is no documentation of this because who can figure out how to take a photograph with a new Droid, in the dark, under the influence, at a moving target? Apparently not me.
Otto was doing an excellent job entertaining us, first with a manic giggle, followed by furious pedaling, oohs and ahs, a big thump and then cheers. It was too much for the host of the party who would never attempt such lunacy, but still enjoys being the life of the party. That’s when the host decided to crank up the mini bike.
This is not your ordinary mini bike. It’s about 15 years old with a twisted fork, a duct-taped brake and a throttle that has two stops: entirely open or entirely closed.
The small crowd cheered as he whined up the driveway and onto the track, his knees pointing into angles as high as his shoulders. He laughed joyously, while he still could. He rounded the figure-eight with ease and grace, following Otto’s line over the back berm and the steep incline into the yard.
It was on the way back up the steep grade to the track that his 170 pounds mercilessly flipped him backward from the lip of the hill. He landed with a thud onto his side as the crowd laughed hysterically.
“That was the funniest thing I think I’ve EVER seen!” said one smart rider who chose not to participate outside of the stands this lovely evening.
Meanwhile, our host writhed in pain beneath the mini bike that had also whacked his helmet-less head.
It wasn’t long before I snuck off to bed, leaving our rambunctious guests on their own to dial 911. Children get up too early to stay up past 1 a.m. Imagine my surprise when our host felt the same and drug his moaning ass to bed right behind me. Would he ice it? No. Would he take an anti-inflammatory? No. Would there be coffee and happy children when I awoke after sleeping in? No.
Would there be a large muscle bruise and lots of whining? Yes.
Don’t ride the pump track after 10 p.m.