The Time I Will Always Remember

by Russell

I remember that cold, wet, foggy day in the Reno Livestock Events Center when it was my third championship dirt bike race. My goal was to bring home a   big, shinny, gold cup.   There I was looking at myself on the black and white checkered start line.   The announcer said, "turn your bikes over," then held up the gun. I was sweating,   it felt like I was under a mist sprayer. I was so sick to my stomach, I wanted to   puke. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw the announcer pull the trigger of the   silver start gun.   I held in the clutch, clicked down on the gear by my left foot, and put my   bike in to first. Then I revved it up and let go of the clutch. My front wheel took   off and did a wheely for about ten yards. I stood up and pushed down on the   handle bars. The tire hit the ground with a thump and dirt flew in my face. I shook   my head to get the dirt off my goggles. Then I revved it up again, held the clutch   in, got the front of my boot under the gear shifter, pulled up and let go of the clutch   once more and my bike took off like a speeding bullet.   Before I knew it, there was the first turn. I turned, put my foot down and   held the clutch. I turned just a little bit, revved up my bike and let go of the clutch.   My bike did another wheely and landed hard on the front tire. The back tire went   up and another biker hit the back of my bike.   When the other biker hit me. I flew over my handle bars onto my   head then rolled over and started cussing. I closed my eyes for about 10 seconds,   then got back up on my feet and walked over to the side of the track. I had a sharp   pain in my left side. It felt like someone stabbed me with a knife. I kneeled down   on my knees and started coughing while trying to catch my breath. The race   ended. Amazingly, I ended up in the championships. I don’t know how, I don’t   know why, but I did.   I went up to the black and white checkered start line again and took off with   all the other racers. This time, my front wheel didn’t raise up and I managed to   stay on my bike. I turned the corner and took off down the straight away. I took   another sharp banked corner and still managed to stay on my bike. There was   another straight away with a 25 foot jump and a 30 foot gap. I was in fourth gear   while I was on the straight away. I held in the clutch and put it into second gear.   My bike took off with the front wheel raising about 6 inches. I stood up and   pushed down again and hit the jump. I was so high in the air, it must have been 30   feet. I felt like I had butterflies in my stomach. I let go with my feet, stretched my   bike out and did a "Superman".   Unfortunately, I miscalculated the jump and my front tire hit the front of the   jump. Before I knew it, I was bucked off my bike. I flew about 15 feet and landed   on my face. "Argh!", I screamed.   I could taste the blood coming out of my nose and mouth. I looked back to   see if I could see my bike. I saw it all right, it was on top of my leg. I screamed   again, but this time way, way, way louder. Pretty soon one of the track help came   over to get my bike off me. I sat up and pulled up my ripped, shredded, bloody   pants. It looked like little red marbles popping out of my leg. It was very bloody.   Then I fell over and fainted.   I woke up in the hospital. The doctor said I broke my leg in five different   places and they put in 168 stitches up the right side of my calf. That was the most   painful and stressful part of my life.