Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Round and Round

One day, when I was 12 or 13 years old, I was home alone.  I wasn't supposed to go anywhere, while no one was home, and it was raining.  So, I was stuck in the house, with nothing much to do.

I wandered out to the carport, and sat on my Buzz Bike.  I slowly rode in a small circle on the concrete.  Then, I sped up a little bit, and leaned into it.  Faster and faster I went, riding on a slab of concrete almost the size of a two-car garage and then...POW!  I was on the ground.

Hmmm.  I got up, and started, again.

Round and round I rode, faster and faster, leaning farther over as my speed increased.  The tire slipped, and I slapped a foot to the ground to avoid falling.  It seemed to me that I could find a sweet spot, and get the tire slipping and still ride.  Powerslide!

So, I kept trying.   I would ride a few rounds and either fall, or slide just a little bit and almost (but not quite) get it.  Over and over, round and round.  I spent the entire afternoon riding my bike as fast as I could in a 10-foot diameter circle.

Eventually, my mom and my sister arrived home from their shopping expedition.  I was still riding nowhere, fast, when they got out of the car.

"How long have you been doing that?"  Joy asked.

"All day,"  I said, skidding to a halt.

"Bored?"  she asked.

"Not any more!"


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As always, sorry about the word verification. It's a necessary evil, unfortunately.