Bikes and Stuff

Seth is all I think about these days. He's all I talk about, dream about, tell stories about. I wish I could say that he's my boyfriend and that all my thoughts are love driven and giddy. Well, they're love driven but with great sorrow and aching. He's my brother and he's not here anymore. I have to wait until I die to see him again.

I spend most of my daily energies thinking about him. Nothing else really matters. Most of my time with friends is spent thinking about Seth and talking about him when I can. It's not a warm and fuzzy topic even when I share funny stories about him. They just make me miss him more. Those stories make me remember what I'll be missing out on for the rest of my life.

I realized the other day that I would some day run out of memories. I wouldn't have a constant flow of "new" memories from the past. Sure, I know I wont have any from the future. I'm just talking about a reservoir of good times and bad times that are slowly running dry. One day it will spit out the last one. I'll have no choice but to start reusing and retelling the same stories in the fashion of an elderly woman who can't remember that she just told you that same story ten minutes ago.

To me, it's worth it. To remember, and cherish all those times and to share with others so they don't take for granted the beautiful family members they have. To remind them to hold on even tighter and to love them even deeper.



This spring I'm going to be taking a motorcycle riding course to freshen up on my riding skills. I've wanted a bike ever since my little brother showed me how to ride his dirt bike. That was a huge risk for him letting me ride his little 150cc Yamaha. That was his first bike and his baby at the time. Most rides went well. I had fun and so did he, for the most part. Although, I could tell he was nervous at the same time.

One time we trucked his bike over to my cousin's place so we could ride on a friend's property. They had a nice dirt track and some good hills to climb. There were several other people there, my cousins and some of their friends and my older brother and Seth. My uncle provided a helmet for us to share as me and Seth took turns racing around on his bike. I kind of complained about wearing a helmet but my uncle wouldn't let me ride without it. Way to go uncle! Really, I'm glad for that. Because, after Seth and I had switched off a couple of times and it came to be my turn again. I...

Well let me backtrack...While I watched Seth take off from a start I noticed that he liked to rev the bike and then let go of the clutch really fast. At which point he'd spin out a little and then speed off. I thought "I can do that!". I really liked that idea of just letting go of the clutch really fast because I had difficulty with smooth take offs. I'd either jolt forward then slowly be on my way or I wouldn't let the clutch out fast enough and it'd die. At which point I'd have to kick start it again and repeat the dreaded process.

Anyway, it was my turn and I thought I'd give the quick release a try. I had my helmet on. I hopped onto the bike. My uncle and older cousins and a couple of their friends were standing just off the path and so were my brothers. I revved the bike and let out the clutch and started speeding off...then lost control and swerved right into a crumby tree. Don't get me wrong I like tree's, a lot, but that one was in my way! It was probably only six or seven inches in diameter but somehow I hit it straight on. I flipped head over heals past the tree and flew like a rag doll through the air until I made contact with the ground. I hit my head on the tree, I presume, and scraped my arms and shins, and thoroughly had the wind knocked out of me. I heard exclamations of all kinds as I flew through the air and was shortly greeted by my uncle and cousins who checked on me to see if I was okay. I was. Seth however took to his bike. The front forks were bent because, well, I just hit a friggin' tree. He was pissed. He didn't even ask me if I was okay. Of course that made me really mad. He acted like that bike was real baby and that I had given it peircings and tattoos.

Well, they ended up fixing it that evening. Good as used! Seth and I made amends later. I don't remember how long it took but it wasn't that night or that week. I was sorry I wrecked his bike and he was sorry he was an ass about it. We even laughed about it later on. But boy oh boy did he have a cow that day or what!

Shortly after that incident he got a bigger better bike. He wouldn't let me ride that one though. I didn't blame him and I wouldn't have wanted to since he wasn't exactly the best teacher or maybe I wasn't the best pupil. I'll have to tell you about the story with that bike another time. Just know for now, that it wasn't my fault this time. However, I was still the one that got hurt.


All-in-all that is why I'm taking a professional class...so I can be a great defensive and responsible rider and not hit trees and such.


Also, I wanted to share that story because even though it isn't the prettiest and nicest of stories, it can serve as a reminder to make amends with your loved ones. Or as a reminder to focus on what is really important in life. Plus I just like it. It's real life. I could dish all kinds of nice stories about Seth and me together but you'd only get half a person out of the deal. Nobody is perfect.

I'll share more stories and try to keep 'em even.

Sincerely,
Sar'