As always, I raced around the empty pitbike track with ease, until the engine sputtered when I was a few feet in the air. When the engine stopped, the gears locked, so when I landed I fell. The crash bent the gear and I was a little scraped up. But, once my dad bent the gear back to where it was supposed to be, I rode again. But not even ten minutes later, it happened again. My dad accused me of just not giving it enough gas. He used the phrase "pin it to win it!",and sent me back on the track.
After about 20 minutes of riding without incident, I was riding around a corner with a dip when it happened again. This time, the 150 pound pitbike landed on top of me, and the engine didn't cut out completely. My left foot was stuck between the back tire and glowing hot muffler of the running pitbike, and I couldn't move. My foot was being burned, and I was in terrible pain. I screamed for help as I desperately tried to pull myself out from under the pitbike, but I couldn't move without pulling it further on top of me. My dad and another guy who was riding on a plateau directly above me, came sprinting to my rescue. My dad lifted the bike while the unknown rider yanked my foot free. I crawled away, and then tried to stand. I struggled at first, and the rider thought I had broken my ankle, but thankfully I stood up and was able to limp back down to the pits.
My dad strapped the pitbike down on the rack while I took off my left boot to inspect my foot. The skin on top of my foot near the ankle was raw and peeling, and it stung like hell! I just put the sock back on, slipped it into my shoe that I didn't bother to tie, and sat in the Xterra. Dad took me out to lunch, and while food did distract me from the pain for awhile, as soon as I got home and took off my shoes and socks, I noticed my burn was starting to boil. For a week, I wore nothing but crocs and medicated bandages on that foot, but thankfully the boil went away and the burn healed, but not without leaving a rough scar behind.
In an interesting way, that crash gave me confidence and reduced a lot of my fears and anxieties. I knew the pitbike was finished, and I also knew I could crash and survive just fine. I found that I could even laugh and brag a bit about that day. So, as I wrapped up my wound and replayed the event over and over again in my head, I figured that perhaps motocross was a sport I'd like to further pursue.
