On The Pegs September 2019 - Volume 4 - Issue 9 | Page 51

On The Pegs
Vol. 4 Issue 9 - September 2019
51
Obviously, I can’t yell at my dad. While he has never actually lost his temper and
thrown a crescent wrench at me, I have seen the temptation writ large upon his
face far too many times. Plus, he has high blood pressure anyway, and I’m sure
when he becomes so angry that those veins in his forehead stick out it probably
doesn’t help matters any. But the last and most compelling reason not to yell at
my dad is that one of my fatal flaws is a stunning lack of mechanical aptitude. If
I had to start doing all the engine work on my own bike (especially if I was on a
four-stroke) my equipment wouldn’t last half a season.
Yelling at the bike also does very little good. It may make you feel better in the
short run, but usually the bike feels just as bad about the situation as you do.
Kicking the bike is also considered poor sportsmanship and should be avoided. I
personally have never kicked a bike, as it would cost me my membership in Soci-
ety Against Dirtbike Destruction (SADD), a noble organization similar to ASPCA,
dedicated to the eradication of motorcycle abuse. This is definitely not an imagi-
nary organization that I made up just now as a cover to hide how abusive I am to
my poor dirt bikes. Just a couple weeks ago at the Fallen Timbers Extreme En-
duro, I remember sitting at the top of a very steep hill. I dismounted and leaned
down toward my bike, gently whispering “I promise this really is the best way to
get the two of us down this thing”, before giving it a hard shove and sending it
skidding and cartwheeling into the abyss. When I caught up with it at the bottom,