Out feed’n the need for speed today. Our dirt launch-pad has been wore down a bit. I pushed it up, lengthened the entry and cut the ramp off about 1 meter high.
Mendozza did a couple of test passes then hit-it… He got both height and distance, landed hard but kept it all together. It was at least an 8.
But, when he landed, his chest whacked the gas tank and he was winded. One of those violent windings that leave you gasping for breath.
Mendozza brought the bike to a controlled stop and did one of those forlorn and injured head-hanging acts. I was walking up as he managed to get off the bike, set the kick-stand, then he laid down and cried. In a gasping, sobbing, pain filled way.
Of course, Angelo and I were hooting like fools. It was an impressive bit of gravity defying fun.
With good body armour nothing was badly bruised but the whack he took would have broken unprotected ribs. And being right on the sternum it is hard for him not to move and where it don’t hurt, a bit.
But like a “proper-bloke” he was up and moving in short order. Though the bike got put away he tooled around on the quad to prove he wasn’t gun-shy.
But I saw it in his eyes: That adrenalin-dump sparkle that comes from skating close to the razor’s edge.
What a ride! What a flight!
With more to come…