So the trails were this big...

So there were trails all around my house. They were typical Pennsylvania deer trails; tight and winding single track, lots of roots. The apartment I lived in was in the pocket created by a horseshoe turn in a creek that ran around the house. So in this pocket was the building I lived in, two other buildings and a house. Then a large field was was in front of it all and all this was boardered by some woods then the stream. And these trails were everywhere.
My mom used to have a lark, you know those little electric contraptions that old people use to get around. She didn't need it, she just had it. It only had three wheels but it handled well and it had a horn. I used to sneak it outa the house and drive it around on the trails; see going offroad is in my blood. Its sumpthin I gotta do!
The lark had pretty slick tires, so you had to be careful on the slick ridges along the creek. Most of the singletrack you could handle on rabbit, but for the stuff along the creek you needed the torque so you gotta keep it on turtle, else you would do what I did (foreshadowing).
Picture this: beautiful day; warm, sunny, and clear. Slight breeze, the creek (known as Bull Creek) gurgling in the background. I got home early from school and decided to take the lark out for a spin. Things were really falling into place, I was hummin along doin maybe 6 or 7, it was one of those rides where everything just works. There was a quick little descent that turned to the left, it could be tricky. The lark didn't have a rear brake so you had to throw her into reverse to brake. And on this little turn; known to me as dead man's curve, you had to brake just at the right time to get the monster front wheel where you wanted it. But I passed with flying colors on this day, I was on fire! I was on full rabbit with the throttle all the way up to three!
Now if I was smart I would have backed off to turtle before I hit the stream side singletrack. But I didn't and let me tell you it was spiritual! I was flying along the trail so fast, water bubbling by to my right, trees blowing to my left and hair raising excitement straight ahead!
This is where the narrorator would say, "What the B Rose don't know is..". Because right ahead of me the trail made a sharp dip toward the creek. It was one of those sections where the trial makes a quick dip to the left then back again, but there is a bump that makes the whole thing off cambre toward the creek. I was committed!! I couldn't brake because as soon as the front wheel cleared the hump the drive wheel came off the ground, and I was headed toward the stream with nothing to stop me. THUNK, three foot drop, rear wheels were on the ledge, front wheel was in the creek bed, and I accidently grabbed the throttle, now everything was in the creek bed.
Bull creek is an awesome Trout stream, but late summer (as it was) things get low.

Now I was ok, thankfully. After an accident like that you don't know what can happen, and I wasn't in the water. But I had to get the lark home, the sun was getting low and there was mud back as far as I can see. Now you have to understand, I only weighed about 125lbs at this time and I spent most of my time stoned so I was not gonna heave the lark up over the bank any time soon. So I ran back to the house, did a couple bong hits, grabbed some tools and headed stream ways back across the field. Somewhere in that process I must have lost an hour or so because it was almost totally dark. I spent the next half hour taking the lark apart, and pulling it up over the hill piece by piece, then I made a quick reassembly and got it home. A spit polish and some rubbing compound to get rid of the scratches and the lark was sitting in the living room looking as good as new.

But now that I had Maylin and she had four wheels, this would not happen again...

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