Summer School

Summers were always exciting. Freedom from the classroom didn't mean learning was on hold for the year, we just turned our focus to a different type of lessons. Life lessons were never more poingnant than those learned outside, under the bright glare of the sun.

My summers were filled with family and friends. My aunt Laura, who is two years older than me, used to spend summers with my family. She traveled all the way from Georgia to Ohio each year to immerse herself in the fragrant country air. The smell of manure was overpowered by the scent of wildflowers growing on the hillside behind our house.

That hill was the scene of many emotions. We raced down the hill in winter on our sleds and in summer on our feet. One year we decided that running and rolling down the hillside wasn't enough of a challenge. We decided that riding our bikes down the hill would be even more fun. Keep in mind that this hill was not a smooth surface. There were rocks jutting from the hillside and crevices hidden beneath the tall grasses. Trees dotted the hillside as well, ending just before the tiny hump halfway down the slope. All of this combined to make the perfect obstacle course in our youthful minds.

To make the course more of a challenge, we removed the chains from our bicycles. No chain equaled no brakes so we'd have to stop with our feet, fall over or bail before we ran into the middle of the gravel road in front of the house. Not understanding the concepts of velocity, we didn't see this as a problem. All together, there were four of us attempting this feat. My two best friends were country born and raised and didn't see this as anything out of the ordinary. My aunt and I were city girls, never having ridden our bikes off the silky paved roads that ribboned our suburban neighborhoods. We didn't anticipate the perils a rock or tree could pose for the downhill biker.

Jessie was the first to take off down the hill. She wove in and out of the trees, narrowly missing several branches with her face. At the bottom, she skid to the side and waved her arms in triumph. Lynn was next, her bumpy ride over the rocks and flight from the hump gave me a moments pause, but she too made it down in one piece. Next was my turn. I pushed off with more than a little trepidation, picking up speed as I went down the hill. I hit every rock on the hill, bounced off my seat numerous times and finally fell at the bottom of the hill. I was happy I made it, not giving into my fears. I hopped up, favoring my left side and waved at Laura.

She stood at the top for a while, clearly unable to fathom why she was doing this crazy stunt. She was two years older than the rest of use and gained quite a bit more common sense in that two years. She finally shook her head and walked the bike down to the hump. She didn't want to risk flying out of control so she pushed off after the hump, sailing down without a problem. At the bottom, she looked at us and said, "You guys are nuts. Your parents would kill you if they knew you were doing this."

That wasn't the last time we tried the backyard obstacle course without our bike chains, but it was the last time we invited Laura. Somehow we figured eventually she'd let common sense overule her bond of friendship and tell our parents. Looking back, I'm surprised we didn't get hurt. I learned a couple life lessons that day. Overcoming fear is a wonderful feeling and common sense is learned through experience.