04 July 2016
Story #816
R. Linda:
It takes some getting used to when your two-year-old can drive a four-wheeler better than you. Yup, I had a friend come over with his four-wheeler. He wanted to sell it and left it for me to drive over the weekend to see if it was what I wanted.
R. Linda:
It takes some getting used to when your two-year-old can drive a four-wheeler better than you. Yup, I had a friend come over with his four-wheeler. He wanted to sell it and left it for me to drive over the weekend to see if it was what I wanted.
 |
| This looks like fun, right? |
Well, it starts and drives in first gear, so if you turn it on, you'd better have the brake engaged; otherwise, it takes off, and if anyone is standing in front of you, they're sure to be roadkill. Oi!
Keeping this in mind, I was fine the day he came over and showed me how the thing works. He left it on Saturday, and on Sunday, I didn't have the nerve to drive it without Tonya by my side. So today she says, "If you are seriously considering buying that thing, you should go drive it along the trails to see if it is right for you."
Well, okay, and off I went, and I got in and sat for a little bit looking over everything. I guess I sat there a little too long because, from the back deck, Tonya called out to me, "That's not doing it, Gabe!"
Ok, ok, ok! I turned the key, completely forgetting that I would take off with me foot off the brake, and wham, I got instant whiplash as me foot came off the clutch and the thing jerked forward, coming to a sudden, neck-breaking stop. OK, ok, ok! I started it up this time with me foot on the brake, slowly easing it off and then starting forward equally slowly. I could see the wife from the back deck shaking her head. I was going at a snail's pace when I heard this whirring sound, and passing me was my two-year-old in HIS four-wheeler, a battery-powered four-wheeler the Dragon Lady had given him on his second birthday. This had horrified me; she'd give him something a six-year-old couldn't drive! BUT stupid me, he drove it correctly the first time out.
I followed at a reasonable distance and turned off into the trails. I gave the thing more gas and was quite satisfied that I had it under control. The trails are sketchy; roots jut up, and there are fallen branches, rocks, pine needles, and old, rotten leaves, making them not precisely clear, smooth, or worry-free. I got up to a shallow brook and crossed it, splashing meself from the openness of the four-wheeler. The doors are off for the summer, and I, for some stupid reason, forgot that anything could hit you that flew up from the roughed tyres.
The water dripped down me legs as I was wearing shorts. On a hot day, it initially felt good, but then it became warm from the heat and sticky and uncomfortable.
I reached a spot where I was on an incline, with large rocks and a stump of an old tree partially protruding from the ground. My friend had taken me over this hurdle with the ease of a man who knows what he's doing, so feeling confident, I gunned it a bit and started over the half boulders and stump with the mind I could get up and over too. Didn't happen. I couldn't get the thing to push forward and over so I backed it down, marvelling I knew how to get it in reverse and started up the stump again and over the half boulders to get a little further, but unfortunately all four wheels were off the ground and spinning and I was going nowhere. What to do?
I slithered meself out after shutting it off, grabbed hold of the back end and pulled since the front end was high in the air and I didn't want to crash it down on another larger rock below. I had to pull and take a break, and pull and take another break, but after 20 minutes, I had the thing off the debris field. I had naturally taken the parking brake off so I could move it backwards, but I was not fast enough, as it started rolling back down the slight incline, where it stopped in the middle of the brook.
I had to take off me sandals to wade in the ankle-deep water to get back in. I put me gear back on, thinking I had ruined me new sandals with my wet feet, but oh well. It was now hot out, and I was not enjoying this at all. I backed the way I came, since I couldn't turn the four-wheeler where I was, as the trail was too narrow. Talk about a crooked neck; mine hurt, and so did my shoulders. I got back to the grassy field and drove back to where I had started. I was too overheated to play with the vehicle again, so I went in for a cold drink.
The house was warm, and there was a breeze outside, so I went out on the back deck to cool off. I was standing there when this went by, as if he was showing me up, showing me how it was done, and that he is a better operator of a four-wheeler at the age of 2 1/2 than his old man will ever hope to be.
Did he give me the finger?
I was like, 'Rub it in, buddy, why don't you?' He started to piss me worthless self off when he started driving circles around the tree, and went at a good amount of speed up a steep incline, over rocks, which was a good thing his mother wasn't there (that was her rock garden he had run over) and then around and down like a speed racer coming to the finish. I stood there thinking I needed something stronger in me iced tea and yelled at him to be careful (like he was the one that needed to hear that) and as I started back inside, he drove past me one more time to show me how it was done, and then he drove off into the sunset, the little bugger.
Yup!
Shown up by a two-year-old!
Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved
Keeping this in mind, I was fine the day he came over and showed me how the thing works. He left it on Saturday, and on Sunday, I didn't have the nerve to drive it without Tonya by my side. So today she says, "If you are seriously considering buying that thing, you should go drive it along the trails to see if it is right for you."
Well, okay, and off I went, and I got in and sat for a little bit looking over everything. I guess I sat there a little too long because, from the back deck, Tonya called out to me, "That's not doing it, Gabe!"
Ok, ok, ok! I turned the key, completely forgetting that I would take off with me foot off the brake, and wham, I got instant whiplash as me foot came off the clutch and the thing jerked forward, coming to a sudden, neck-breaking stop. OK, ok, ok! I started it up this time with me foot on the brake, slowly easing it off and then starting forward equally slowly. I could see the wife from the back deck shaking her head. I was going at a snail's pace when I heard this whirring sound, and passing me was my two-year-old in HIS four-wheeler, a battery-powered four-wheeler the Dragon Lady had given him on his second birthday. This had horrified me; she'd give him something a six-year-old couldn't drive! BUT stupid me, he drove it correctly the first time out.
I followed at a reasonable distance and turned off into the trails. I gave the thing more gas and was quite satisfied that I had it under control. The trails are sketchy; roots jut up, and there are fallen branches, rocks, pine needles, and old, rotten leaves, making them not precisely clear, smooth, or worry-free. I got up to a shallow brook and crossed it, splashing meself from the openness of the four-wheeler. The doors are off for the summer, and I, for some stupid reason, forgot that anything could hit you that flew up from the roughed tyres.
The water dripped down me legs as I was wearing shorts. On a hot day, it initially felt good, but then it became warm from the heat and sticky and uncomfortable.
I reached a spot where I was on an incline, with large rocks and a stump of an old tree partially protruding from the ground. My friend had taken me over this hurdle with the ease of a man who knows what he's doing, so feeling confident, I gunned it a bit and started over the half boulders and stump with the mind I could get up and over too. Didn't happen. I couldn't get the thing to push forward and over so I backed it down, marvelling I knew how to get it in reverse and started up the stump again and over the half boulders to get a little further, but unfortunately all four wheels were off the ground and spinning and I was going nowhere. What to do?
I slithered meself out after shutting it off, grabbed hold of the back end and pulled since the front end was high in the air and I didn't want to crash it down on another larger rock below. I had to pull and take a break, and pull and take another break, but after 20 minutes, I had the thing off the debris field. I had naturally taken the parking brake off so I could move it backwards, but I was not fast enough, as it started rolling back down the slight incline, where it stopped in the middle of the brook.
I had to take off me sandals to wade in the ankle-deep water to get back in. I put me gear back on, thinking I had ruined me new sandals with my wet feet, but oh well. It was now hot out, and I was not enjoying this at all. I backed the way I came, since I couldn't turn the four-wheeler where I was, as the trail was too narrow. Talk about a crooked neck; mine hurt, and so did my shoulders. I got back to the grassy field and drove back to where I had started. I was too overheated to play with the vehicle again, so I went in for a cold drink.
The house was warm, and there was a breeze outside, so I went out on the back deck to cool off. I was standing there when this went by, as if he was showing me up, showing me how it was done, and that he is a better operator of a four-wheeler at the age of 2 1/2 than his old man will ever hope to be.
I was like, 'Rub it in, buddy, why don't you?' He started to piss me worthless self off when he started driving circles around the tree, and went at a good amount of speed up a steep incline, over rocks, which was a good thing his mother wasn't there (that was her rock garden he had run over) and then around and down like a speed racer coming to the finish. I stood there thinking I needed something stronger in me iced tea and yelled at him to be careful (like he was the one that needed to hear that) and as I started back inside, he drove past me one more time to show me how it was done, and then he drove off into the sunset, the little bugger.
Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved
