Every time I hear these lyrics: “They say what goes up Must come down But don’t let me fall,” I think of the dual sport ride my pops took me on once. Actually, it wasn’t a ride, it was an all-out race, and we were on the SP.
Looking at it now, it was crazy but we were hardcore, the two of us, and we toughed out the rain and the mud together on two wheels with my boots on the rear pegs and my gloves wrapped around the gaps in his chest protector. That year, I was atleast 6, the Alligator dual sport during Bike Week started under clear conditions. We ripped through city streets with purpose, following more of the crowd than the map.
After lunch, we hit the woods and the rain rolled in. I remember the ride taking an unexpected turn and I experienced my first fear of crashing. I was not in control, so I started crying out of frustration. Pops pulled the bike over in the middle of a long stretch of wide open dirt road section. He turned to face me and grabbed me by the shoulders. Bikes were flying by because the race was almost over.
“Do you trust me?” He yelled through his helmet. I nodded and squeaked out, “Yes.”
“You trust me.” He said it this time. I nodded again and burst out, “Yes!”
“I would never let us crash,” he told me. “Ok?”
While I may have trust issues, we never crashed.