But, you know, I had never rolled a four wheeler either.
I was in town to be at my grandparents' homecoming from their LDS mission to Armenia. While we were there, my uncle was super stoked to take all the nieces and nephews four wheeling.
I was hooked instantly.
On my first ride, I drove with my mom. This stressed me out a bit, but once I got going I was surprised at how much I loved it. I felt so hardcore... though I was only going like 15 MPH.
Once I felt more confident, we went back to pick up some of the younger cousins. With my 9 year-old sister and 7 year-old cousin on the back of my machine, I followed my uncle for my second ride.
After a while he warned me that we were coming up to a really steep hill. He gave me some instruction and went down the hill.
At the top, I felt scared. I didn't want to do this. But that feeling of invincibility that we all get between the ages of 16 and 30 kicked in, and suddenly I was willing to try anything.
Probably shouldn't have tried this though.
Going down, I gassed it a little too hard. I hit the brake and felt the machine tip a bit. Instead of leaning, I automatically turned in the opposite direction.
That's when the four wheeler flipped.
My cousin, my sister, and I all were thrown off the machine. It rolled over us and landed at the bottom of the hill.
As soon as I could, I jumped up and checked that the girls weren't trapped under the machine. They weren't. I don't think I've ever been as appreciative of the fact that my uncle is an EMT as I was in that moment. He checked on Sara, and I checked on Bella. They were both fine, just shaken.
Once we got back to the house, my other sister and other cousin who were riding with my uncle had a total come apart. I guess watching us tumble was scarier than actually tumbling. The parents were all stressed, and so was my uncle. I was just embarrassed.
This morning I woke up bruised and beaten. I don't think there is a part of my body that doesn't feel sore.
Still- this all makes for a good story, right?
...Right?
I was in town to be at my grandparents' homecoming from their LDS mission to Armenia. While we were there, my uncle was super stoked to take all the nieces and nephews four wheeling.
I was hooked instantly.
On my first ride, I drove with my mom. This stressed me out a bit, but once I got going I was surprised at how much I loved it. I felt so hardcore... though I was only going like 15 MPH.
Once I felt more confident, we went back to pick up some of the younger cousins. With my 9 year-old sister and 7 year-old cousin on the back of my machine, I followed my uncle for my second ride.
After a while he warned me that we were coming up to a really steep hill. He gave me some instruction and went down the hill.
At the top, I felt scared. I didn't want to do this. But that feeling of invincibility that we all get between the ages of 16 and 30 kicked in, and suddenly I was willing to try anything.
Probably shouldn't have tried this though.
Going down, I gassed it a little too hard. I hit the brake and felt the machine tip a bit. Instead of leaning, I automatically turned in the opposite direction.
That's when the four wheeler flipped.
My cousin, my sister, and I all were thrown off the machine. It rolled over us and landed at the bottom of the hill.
As soon as I could, I jumped up and checked that the girls weren't trapped under the machine. They weren't. I don't think I've ever been as appreciative of the fact that my uncle is an EMT as I was in that moment. He checked on Sara, and I checked on Bella. They were both fine, just shaken.
Once we got back to the house, my other sister and other cousin who were riding with my uncle had a total come apart. I guess watching us tumble was scarier than actually tumbling. The parents were all stressed, and so was my uncle. I was just embarrassed.
This morning I woke up bruised and beaten. I don't think there is a part of my body that doesn't feel sore.
Still- this all makes for a good story, right?
...Right?
Just checkin' in, telling you I've been here. Love to read your writing. xoxox
ReplyDelete