The Taste of Dirt

I remember the first time by brother really actually hurt me. We were playing catch with a tennis ball and he got very confident that I could catch anything he threw at me, so he launched one. I got hit in the nose. So hard, that it just fell cold and blood started gushing out of both nostrils. His immediate response was to *sort of* compliment me by telling me how cool it was to get a double bloody nose. I have to say, I felt pretty proud of it; even though it hurt like crazy. And I went to tell my mom on him.

The taste of dirt was on my nephew's lips on Thanksgiving. We went to the Lake Arbor dirt jumps. He doesn't know what to be scared of yet and he sure did rip through several jumps for about an hour. Then comfort set in... and.... POW! His bars turned to the side on a landing and his face stopped him from skidding. I watched his head bounce on the ground (with his helmet) and the pause before the scream. I tried to pull the complimentary comment out: "That was a great wreck! Wow, I'm impressed!". Aidan looks at me with dirt on his mouth, a little bit of tears and lots of rage in his eyes and says exactly what I first thought when I had a double-bloody-nose. "I DON'T CARE!".

He got back on the bike within 10 minutes and was doing the same jump within the half hour.

"Gotta get back on the horse"

Aidan: Giant STP 125
Carl: Bridgestone MB4
Andres: Mountain Cycle Hardtail
Scott: Brooklyn Park Bike