Dead Man's Hill - 3

February 24, 2010

Sal and I began to push the lone rider towards our final destination of Dead Man’s Hill. After a few short steps we all agreed that the two man starter-pusher was the best solution. Gary’s next suggestion was to add another block before the switch because it was that much easier therefore the ride would be too short. So that we did, even though we all knew he was still in the driver’s seat. We puffed.

After the four blocks Sal got in and Gary got out as we continued toward our destination. It was at this switch that we all asked each other where the famous helmet was stored. No one bothered to remember the thing. I said that at monster X’s speed I’mm not sure it mattered that much. Sal said that he thought it would help us look more professional. Gary couldn’t believe it was left behind.

At this thought we all agreed with Sal seeing as how that’s why we even made the hood hinges the same colour; for the same reason. We all decided it was too late to go back. By this time, about 11 a.m. the main suburb streets were beginning to get cluttered with more vehicular traffic. Now trucks and big city buses spewed exhaust in our nostrils because we were at that lowest position.

We rested after Gary’s last block. As a group we decided to add a few more blocks to the predetermined route not just for safety and smelly reasons but most importantly due to hills we’d encounter on the old way; the same one’s we didn’t realise we’d have to trek before heading out of Gary’s driveway. The traffic changed route was longer but we were still determined to reach our final goal.

After the initial four plus blocks there was no turning back now; by the way crossing a street didn’t count as any part of a block. That was just something we had to cross to get to the other side to begin counting the rider’s next block.

At this point I was beginning to really get tired and was trying to think ahead to just exactly where mmy turn as a rider would begin. I asked Gary, the new partner starter-pusher where he thought it would be. He said in a dry, flat, bored tone, “After Sal’s four blocks.” “Thanks Gary,” I said with eyes rolled upward.

I took the new information into consideration when trying to calculate mmy turn to ride. Best as I could figure, it was the very beginning of the last hill we’d have to climb. I thought to mmyself, oh heck I wonder if it’s too steep to ride inside. In three blocks I was to find out soon enough. We continued pushing Sal. He smiled

Sal’s four blocks went pretty easy as most of his turn was a straight away with a few stops in between for red lights and cross streets. Also in our travel we encountered a number of irate male legal drivers and their honking car horns.

The mostly adult drivers were yelling to us to take that thing off the road; we’re causing undo hardships to those who have the right of way. They usually did this by sticking their heads out of their car windows; passenger sides as well while presenting us their gritted teeth as if to show us their new dental work. We of course thanked them with little kid’s smiles continuing on our way; waving.

We had no choice really, unlike now a day when some corner curbs have sloping cement. Back then it was still a four or five inch drop from sidewalk to pavement. This was the second time we considered adding shocks; not just because of each corner’s obstacle but observing the uneven and multidimensional sidewalks we all thought that if the men in blue came along, it would be a much harder push.

We were now reaching the end of Sal’s last stretch. Straight ahead and at the end of this block and its red light it would be mmy turn. Unfortunately for mme the light had turned green for our right of way. Before I could jump in for the quick switch Gary started pushing harder as Sal yelled to both of us to quickly push to the other side of the street so we wouldn’t have to wait in traffic. We puffed on.

I did this reluctantly not only because I was beat and it was mmy turn but I had lost the opportunity for the uncounted ride across the street to the next side. That wasn’t the half of it. We reached the other side of the street, which was Clove Road and the same street that was one side of the park we were to enter. A hill.

This is where the one long up hill began before we were to go downhill again just before entering the park. At this point we stopped again to rest and to take turns swigging what little water was left in the single, small bottle we had brought to quench thirst. Yes we were all quite thirsty and a bit tired, Gary and me. It wasn’t an easy slog. Sal got out, I quickly got in as he and Gary pushed. They puffed.

It wasn’t long, maybe about twenty feet when both of them said that the hill is too steep to push anyone who wanted to ride inside. We’d all have to push at this point. Needless to say I was quite unhappy about this but it was obvious they were telling the truth. The slog was just as slow as at the beginning. The grunts and groans coming from the two emaciated Clydesdales was another clue that in fact I had to get out and be the third starter-pusher. I was gritting teeth.

Of course as had happened at the beginning of this excursion, I had no sympathy for either one of them. After all it was finally mmy turn and it seemed like we had gone at least several miles before it was. I asked them to try a little harder while at the same time lifting mmy butt off the plywood seat in hopes to make the car lighter. That didn’t work. I also couldn’t use the brakes this way either.

Of course I know now as an adult with a little more education in these things the new position wouldn’t work. Begrudgingly I exited X and began to help the two starter-pushers. Now all three of us trudged our monstrosity X with no motor, up the asphalt hill and up to the hopeful precipice where I was to jump in again.

Meanwhile the whole way I kept saying that in fact although we were passing a few corners which would be considered blocks this wasn’t part of mmy ride because I wasn’t actually sitting inside steering. I was steering through the opening we called a window but Gary and Sal decided that our butts had to touch wood in order for it to be considered a true ride. I was relieved at the truth.

It took us just as long to reach the top of that hill as it took us to get from Gary’s beginning ride through Sal’s and on to mmy turn; it was only three blocks more. But those three blocks were much longer in length than all the other eight combined. It was certainly a long, slow slog but we made it and now we were at the top of the Clove Road hill. The park entryway beckoned our quicker arrival.

The next ride was mmine of course. As we stopped at the top of the hill looking down we thought there’d be no way I should brake anywhere along the downhill route before we approached the slight curving entryway to the park. Just beyond that was one of the busiest intersections around. We had to turn in.

The park entrance is where we knew there would be no more vehicular traffic to hinder us. As long as there were no pregnant mothers or strollers in our path we could just barrel our way downhill and coast as far as we could before anyone had to push again. This more than excited us as we took in the long downhill run

Gary came up with this scenario I thought later on in life mostly because it was his turn to push. Sal of course agreed wholeheartedly as the partner pusher. They also thought there was no need to push any further because of the long downhill so he and Sal thought to ride along with mme. Somehow all three were to roll on.

Gary was the back seat passenger so to speak while Sal would jump on the top of the cab and ride with us all the way to as far as we could go. An added bonus Gary said was that their extra weight would ad even more momentum to our ride, thereby giving us the first real thrill of the day’s fun to run activity. Until…

This scenario made mme squint both eyes while thinking of how fast we’d actually be going when reaching the slightly curved entryway. As the steerer driver mmy first thought was for all of us to gather and pray that nothing got in our way when we reached the bottom where most mothers and their babes in strollers would most likely be congregating before entering the park themselves.

Needless to say, the boys didn’t give us much time to think this through. All they seemed to be concerned about was not pushing and most importantly of the ride ahead without exerting much energy on their part. I on the other hand as the designated steerer-driver was being a bit more cautious; not to mention skeptical

I asked the boys if they thought both our braking systems would work just in case of not only the mother and child scenario but I was concerned about senior citizens as well. They of course would not be fast enough to jump out of our way, right? That question was never answered. Speed took control of their minds.

In unison as if to assure their mothers in a lie that they indeed finished their homework before being allowed ice cream, the boys yelled their confident affirmations with a long scream of Bonnnnnnnnn-Saiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!

Like World War Two Kamikazes unafraid of death while giving their long running, getting faster and faster to a final push; I as the steerer-driver had all our lives in mmy two little shaking hands, wrists and skinny arms. God help us.

The getting faster and faster downhill run without a windshield was making mmy eyes blurry almost immediately like a spring release when the crisp, fresh air rushed into mmy pupils like a dam’s waterfall being let out after a winter’s run off and fill up to the top of the dam before finally running over. I couldn’t see

What happened next frightened all of us out of our nice dry pants…

That’s right; to be continued: