Starting my run this afternoon, I spied a couple of clean-cut suburban teens kicking around a couple of skateboards. One shortboard, and one longboard. Which made me think of my good old days a couple of years ago when I used to carve down hills on my own longboard, and of my friend Brad, who busted his head so bad that he permanently lost his sense of taste and smell (thereby keeping me off of my board ever since).
Anyway, these guys were poised at the top of a medium-sized, medium-grade hill, but they were on the sidewalk. Which means that they would be unable to carve some turns to scrub off any speed. Going straight-off-Adolf means a big buildup of speed followed by some hastily executed plan to slow down.
Sure enough. As I continued on, I heard the sound of a skateboard building speed. Clicketa – Clicketa – Clicketa – Clicka – Clicka – Clic – Clic – Clic-Clic-clic-clic-tk-tk-tktktktk, and turned to see the young gentleman steer the board onto the grass and bravely step off onto the sidewalk. His feet fwapped mightily, trying to catch up with his body, until he finally put his shoulder and head down onto the grass, rolling to a stop.
Which made me stop, and ask the stupid old guy question: “you alright?”.
Oh, to be young.