My cousin and I have crashed a tandem bicycle, fortunately in the grass.
We once built a raft out of an old ladder we found in the woods behind our grandparents’ house, rope from jump ropes, old pieces of wood from a rotting tree house some other kids, long grown-up had abandoned, and materials from our grandparents garage that we got in trouble for later. Huckleberry Finn-style we slaved away in the mud at the bank of the creek, thinking maybe it would lead us somewhere great. When we scooted it into the water holding our breath, we were amazed it floated. The only problem was the creek was a foot and a half deep, maybe two. So when we climbed aboard with our snacks for the journey, it dipped slightly and came to a rest on the creek-bed. We were mad, and then we got found-out and got in trouble for stealing things from the garage we shouldn’t have and for trying to float down a dirty creek to “god-knows where”.
Earlier than that, she had two Pocahontas costumes, double gifted to her on her birthday, and we would wear them – running around her house playing and riding in our “canoe” – her toddler brother’s wooden rocking boat.
Once we were hard core and camped outside in her backyard when it got down to around freezing at night, Minnesota spring isn’t a joke. We made it but not without extra blankets. When we were a little older we camped for real, in tents for a week with her dad and his girlfriend. That’s where we crashed the tandem bike.
I think we scarred a childhood friend of hers for life when we barrel-rolled over one another and skipped like pebbles across the water in our life jackets as he watched in horror from the saftey of the Malibu boat of her neighbor, who was taking us tubing at warp speed.
In a more recent winter we played ice hockey with our younger siblings, the black of the lake in the ice beneath our feet.
Back in the day we skied together in ski school groups for spring breaks in Vail and squealed in delighted horror as we went tubing down the mountainside at night.
Getting out and having an adventure with the nature around you. Somehow I lost some of that as we both grew up and I’d like to get it back. Running is great, and running on the lake is gorgeous. But I want to believe a raft will float us away. I want to marvel at the back-bowls when I make it to the top of the mountain. I didn’t need elaborate trips out of the country then to find adventure, and I shouldn’t need them (and can’t afford them) now.
My cousin has found a way to hang on to that adventure, mixing it in with her daily life and the work she does.
May I let that, and our memories together inspire me to find more of it around me.
J.