On Christmas day of 2015, I was at my dad's house. The year before, he got me a BB gun that he hid behind the curtains like in the movie A Christmas Story, and we spent all of Christmas morning shooting at old milk jugs and cheap sodas. This year, however, my dad decided to get me something even better. It was actually Clarke's idea, and together my dad and him got my gift and carried it into the garage. Dad hid it under a blanket so I wouldn't notice it until I lifted the blanket Christmas morning. 

Under the blanket was a little blue pitbike. A pitbike is a dirtbike, but smaller. We needed to clean out the carburetor, but once that was finished, the little thing started right up. I took it for a ride up and down the street. I was definitely a little big for it, but my dad said I could get a dirtbike as soon as I was finished with the pitbike. 

For the next 6 months, my dad taught me how to ride and how things worked. I spent some good money on essential motocross gear, including a helmet of my own and a pair of motocross boots. The little blue pitbike only went a maximum of 25 miles per hour, but that was enough to get me started. I took it out to random fields on the eastern plains, onto trails in the mountains including Beaver Creek, Rollins Pass, and Cascade Creek, and even took it to a motocross track on the mountainside that had a mini track for pitbikes. 

The more I rode, the more confident and happy I felt. I finally had an outlet. I was finally doing something athletic I was both good at and enjoyed. I finally had some sort of chance at gaining my confidence and bravery back. My depression slowly became a distant memory, since I had something to look forward to doing almost every weekend.