I'll never forget that unforgivable summer day. The dust was flying and my nerves were racing as I felt the sharp rocks of the mountain dig into my back. “AHHHH!” I screamed. The sweat poured down my face like the condensation on the side of a cold cup on a hot day, and was absorbed into the padding of my helmet. My knees were numb and my elbows were on fire. I screamed in agony, but no one could hear. I removed my helmet. . . with one good ear I heard my dirt bike idling in the distance.
Click! The engine died. My hopes of getting home were crushed and I was left with the howling wind blowing past my ears. My heart continued to race and I was scarred. I was all alone, By myself, with no help. I wanted to cry, but knew it wouldn't help. Random memories of better days of riding raced through my mind.

“Why me?”

“Why today?”

There was grit in my teeth and a sandy taste on my tong. As I tried lifting myself, I was reminded of my battle wounds that stretched open and gushed out blood. I screamed again in pain. Covered from head to toe in dust and blood, I examine the burns and gashes that would soon become scars, and would remind my of this day.

Thoughts of my father telling my to ride more were like false words of encouragement. A lie to try to get me out of the house. I tried standing. The loss of feeling in my right knee made me unable to stand properly with both legs. I found a little sense of humor in this whole situation. I thought “ At least they're not gone.” A giggle turned into a yelp of pain and hurt. With a look of self pity on my face, I sighed and turned around. At least there wasn't a blazing fire. Instead, My bike laid on its' side, wheels cocked upward. Gashes and scratches in the blue plastic only made memories and made me think of the consequences.



The sweat kept coming down my forehead.

“I wish I had some ice sold water.”

I limped toward my motorcycle and each step was a test of my inner strength. My knee's popped with every step I took. My eyes quenched as the gut wrenching pain took over my thoughts. My confidence by this time was gone. A piece of plastic now lays on the ground in front of me. Did I hit the ground that hard? This was worse than I thought. My mouth dropped and my heart sunk with disease. I stood by my bike. It was quiet and I could still hear the grasshoppers chirping as the day came to an end. I sighed once again. I reached down and grabbed the dusty torn handle. I pulled and pulled for what seemed like forever. The heat was getting to me. I wanted to hurry up, but I couldn't.

A battle continued as I tried to pull this beast from the tall dry weeds in which it laid. I pulled with what little strength that I had. I finally managed to lift the dang thing. I threw my torn leg up and over the ripped vinyl seat. I was reminded of the first time I sat on it. I was so happy. I grasped my hands around the handle bars that were now bent out of shape. A drop of sweat fell to the seat. I sighed again. I pushed the ignition with hopes of it starting. Click! Nothing happened. The continuous sounds of the wind blowing though the trees still echoed in my head. My motorcycle was as dead as dead can be. Frustration still racing through my thoughts, I climb off. I stared into space with a plane look on my face.

The world was happening with out me. It was true and I didn't want to except it. In that moment of my life, I realized a few things, one being that it can end just like that. I simple miscalculation can lead you to your death. Someone once told me that “the bike is always replaceable, but your not.” I also realized how precious life really is. I almost lost mine that unforgivable summer day.