Movies and Motocross
Mr. B.T.C. and I may have made an irresponsible decision loading up the kids and heading to the movie theatre on a school night but in doing so we pretty much had the whole theatre to ourselves. We were ready for a little nerdy fun as we handed out the 3D glasses.
We watched the X games in 3D. It was a little long for the girls but not long enough for the boys, especially Mr.B.T.C.
I sat through this movie literally on the edge of my seat as I watched these adrenaline seeking freaks do their crazy stunts. It took me back to over a year ago when Mr. B.T.C. was not only riding dirt bikes but racing them. I think my husband may have a little of that adrenaline disorder that was talked about in this movie running through his veins too.
There's no doubt about it according to the boys around my house that dirt biking is cool, fast, and gives you a rush. I don't think anyone can dispute the fact that there is a certain breed of people that just love breathing in that dirt filled air as they tear up the moto-cross track. This sport becomes a part of them and they can't seem to get enough. I think it might have something to do with the freedom they feel when sailing through the air or that feeling they get when determining that perfect speed to clear a jump or maybe it's testing their competitive side as they line up at the starting gate with the sound of motors revving up all around them, or possibly that raw smell of burning fuel(which they happen to think is pleasant).
I realized several years ago that I was married to that certain" breed". Some of our offspring fit into that category as well. Dirt biking became a way of life for the boys in our home. Saturday was a spectacular day if it included a day at the track.
Although I was supportive of letting the boys ride on the weekend, I was dead-set against letting the little guys race. As for the big guy in our house, well, he had other ideas.
Once he discovered moto-cross racing, this idea of NO racing for him was pretty much kicked to the curb. This thrill of his became addictive and lets just say... the Saturday races began! I'll admit, I enjoyed watching him race and was amazed at his ability, love, and passion for this sport but race days always left me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. You see, these dirt bikes have another name known as DEATH bikes". I didn't care much for joking phrases such as "there's only two kinds of riders-those who have crashed, and those who will crash".
I prayed that this phrase would never become a reality for us but of coarse the inevitable happened. I received that dreaded call that left me feeling that the rug had been pulled from under my world when I was told that my boy was being airlifted to a nearby hospital. As I stood next to his hospital bed looking over his broken body (shattered collar bone, five broken ribs and a punctured lung) something shifted in me. I was no longer that supportive wife who would photograph him at the races and cheer for him from the stands. The whole racing/riding activity that was such a big part of our world became a thing of the past.
At my request the bike was sold. I know that those feelings he got from riding have not been forgotten. In fact, I believe he longs to get it back. It's slowly creeping back into our reality as he shows me pics of dirt bikes for sale or texts from buddies who miss riding with him.
Why these thrill seekers get back on the bike, skateboard, snowboard, etc. after getting so busted up... I'll never know because I 'm one of the non thrill seekers.
So, here's to... pictures from the past
We watched the X games in 3D. It was a little long for the girls but not long enough for the boys, especially Mr.B.T.C.
I sat through this movie literally on the edge of my seat as I watched these adrenaline seeking freaks do their crazy stunts. It took me back to over a year ago when Mr. B.T.C. was not only riding dirt bikes but racing them. I think my husband may have a little of that adrenaline disorder that was talked about in this movie running through his veins too.
There's no doubt about it according to the boys around my house that dirt biking is cool, fast, and gives you a rush. I don't think anyone can dispute the fact that there is a certain breed of people that just love breathing in that dirt filled air as they tear up the moto-cross track. This sport becomes a part of them and they can't seem to get enough. I think it might have something to do with the freedom they feel when sailing through the air or that feeling they get when determining that perfect speed to clear a jump or maybe it's testing their competitive side as they line up at the starting gate with the sound of motors revving up all around them, or possibly that raw smell of burning fuel(which they happen to think is pleasant).
I realized several years ago that I was married to that certain" breed". Some of our offspring fit into that category as well. Dirt biking became a way of life for the boys in our home. Saturday was a spectacular day if it included a day at the track.
Although I was supportive of letting the boys ride on the weekend, I was dead-set against letting the little guys race. As for the big guy in our house, well, he had other ideas.
Once he discovered moto-cross racing, this idea of NO racing for him was pretty much kicked to the curb. This thrill of his became addictive and lets just say... the Saturday races began! I'll admit, I enjoyed watching him race and was amazed at his ability, love, and passion for this sport but race days always left me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. You see, these dirt bikes have another name known as DEATH bikes". I didn't care much for joking phrases such as "there's only two kinds of riders-those who have crashed, and those who will crash".
I prayed that this phrase would never become a reality for us but of coarse the inevitable happened. I received that dreaded call that left me feeling that the rug had been pulled from under my world when I was told that my boy was being airlifted to a nearby hospital. As I stood next to his hospital bed looking over his broken body (shattered collar bone, five broken ribs and a punctured lung) something shifted in me. I was no longer that supportive wife who would photograph him at the races and cheer for him from the stands. The whole racing/riding activity that was such a big part of our world became a thing of the past.
At my request the bike was sold. I know that those feelings he got from riding have not been forgotten. In fact, I believe he longs to get it back. It's slowly creeping back into our reality as he shows me pics of dirt bikes for sale or texts from buddies who miss riding with him.
Why these thrill seekers get back on the bike, skateboard, snowboard, etc. after getting so busted up... I'll never know because I 'm one of the non thrill seekers.
So, here's to... pictures from the past
BIKE #318 (Mar. 18...our anniversary date)
Our son shares his fathers passion
Always testing his limits
the day racing became a thing of the past
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