Did I ever tell you that I am cautious? It comes with the territory.
At my age you have to make allowances and bravery is tempered by a little caution. I have noticed that I don’t heedlessly race around blind corners any more. Nor do I aim for the highest jumps or go up and down the steepest hills. Heck there are some trails I avoid altogether. It isn’t just a question of losing my rhythm. I have a lot less strength and less stamina, and in addition I am less limber, and have slower reflexes. Let’s not even talk about my failing eyesight. It all adds up to a complete klutz.
OK so I was at Carnegie the other day leading a friend through some familiar singe track trails. Then the unexpected happened: After threading my way along the creek bed, I looked up to where I was going and to my horror saw a deep crevice with huge ruts carved into the hillside.
I didn’t have time to find a better line and I just gave it a handful of throttle in second gear and headed towards the only fragment of trail I could find winding through the ruts. The only problem was that from the bottom I didn’t see the crevasse like opening I was racing towards. Again I gave it another handful and it floated over the ugly chasm. Then another and I was over top.
I was as proud as if I had won the Erzberg Rodeo on my little Yamaha WR-250F. I had made it and my friend was a little late. I didn’t want to go back and embarrass him so I waited at the top of the trail.
If I had looked at it first, I would have said to myself “no way” and turned around. But if I was trying to impress someone and had gotten up the courage to try it, I would have been too tentative with the throttle and I wouldn’t have made it to the top. That is how you are when you are cautious.
Funny thing about getting old….