My buddy Jeff loves to ride trail bikes. There ain’t too many places he can ride ’round these parts. Leastwise unless you want to get shot. Our family ain’t the only one with a medicinal still. Jeff’s a right likable fella though, and he has permission to ride a few horse trails on a couple of the farms. Well, he went and invited me to go ride this week.
Now I’m not a motorbike kind a guy. I got me a leather jacket, but it ain’t got no studs on it, and it ain’t the sort you’d want to ruin with a patch neither. Darla don’t like sittin’ for long periods of time, so I can’t see her ridin’ on a bike for too long. She might start kickin’ me. But Jeff, he can be powerful persuasive when he wants to be.
Now he tells me ridin’ trail bikes ain’t like them street rods. In fact, he says it’s gonna be just like ridin’ a horse. We’re only gonna be on the regular road about five miles before we go off-road. He promises me it is just like riding a bicycle. I finally agree to try, just to get him quiet. I drive over to his place around 9 am yesterday. He already has the motorcycles ready to go out front. He tells me to get on mine.
Now I got to admit, it didn’t seem no harder than my old tractor. Clutch, gears, brakes. Even the hand throttle seemed a might easy to handle. So we head on out. By the time we reach the dirt trail I am in love. This motorbike behaves better than any old horse. It goes when I tell it, stops when I tell it, and best of all, it don’t try to bite me. But what made me happiest is not having to worry about no biological incidents.
Least, that’s how it all started. Then he brings me to this track. Now it don’t look like no track to me. Just a trail with bumps, logs, and rocks, with trees sittin’ way too close to it. Old Jeff goes first. He’s just a flyin’. He’s got his bike jumpin’ and skiddin’ and slidin’. It was a work of motorcycle art. He rides back over and tells me to give it a try. I tell him I believe that track exceeds the limitations of my limited abilities, but he says I should just go slow.
I reckoned that made sense at the time. At least for the first 15 seconds. I still don’t know what happened. I think that ole trail bike had a mind of its own, but Jeff said I opened up the throttle. All I know is I was started across some bumps and that bike took off under me like someone had done slapped it on the fanny. The last thing I remember seeing was the front wheel above my head and a tree coming at me from the side. Not much worth rememberin’ after that from what Jeff says.
I kind of feel bad. I tore up his bike pretty good. Seems I bent the front forks where the tire goes. He tells me the muffler got all flat from hittin’ the tree. I’m still not sure how I was brought home. I can’t remember much of anything right now ’cause of these here pain pills they have me on. It seems if I don’t take ’em my two broken legs will cause me some powerful pain. I told ’em I could take the family’s medicine, but they were concerned I might be bleeding inside. I ain’t seen no blood, so I reckon I’m good.
So here I sit in my hospital bed. At least my hands ain’t broken’. They’re ’bout to bring me my food. Least they think it’s food. They say they’re gonna release me out of this here hospital in a couple of days. In the meantime, Jeff is comin’ over here and show me his YouTube channel. Seems he had one of them GoPro cameras on his bike and videoed my wreck. Says it’s gone viral. He’s wantin’ to go back out after I heal on up. I’m thinkin’ maybe next time I’ll carry the camera.
Y’all be good.