I won't ride. I've tossed it around, but I simply don't trust other drivers on the road. But I also come from the background of my father being a paramedic in my pre-teen years. He used to work at the old Bryar Motorsport Park, now NH International Speedway and we'd spend the summer up there as he was part-owner of the company that supported the track. Back then it focused on motorcycle road racing, motorcross and short track. And plenty of Bike Weeks hanging out up there. My mom, a nurse, forbade my brother and I from learning despite the easy access. As a kid, when you watch someone take a corner way too quick, go over the handlebars, bounce off the cement and over the haybales and into the cement wall (this was the 80s after all), kind of chilling introduction.
Tired and trembling
I am descending,
will I have to stay here
and live this life again?