|See those rocks? #Imtoooldforthis|
Carved from beneath the Louisville Zoo and a now defunct KMart, I envisioned some big jumps, yes, but perhaps small swells for pleasant riding for the newly initiated. No. The only other people there were two adult BMX racers who declared that this course was harder than BMX race courses.
Why was I there? Spectators are verboten. You must have a bike to be on the course. I said that I was there to assist my son with Type 1 Diabetes. The manager assured me that they had a Gator and if they found him passed out, they'd bring him to me in the room where I could wait.
"Excuse me," I said, "I usually try to treat him BEFORE he passes out."
"No sorry, can't do," she says. "Insurance," she says.
I wonder what the insurance people might say if he passed out on the course and they didn't see him on their monitors (I saw them not watching).
"I'm sure you don't have someone who is trained to administer glucagon."
"HOW DO YOU KNOW??" - she says (nastily).
"Okay, you're right. Do you?"
"Well, we have people trained in first aid. And we can call EMS." and "We've had people here with autism."
It was all downhill (excuse the pun) from there. There was no making her understand. I got on the bike. My second reason for going was to make sure that the hills didn't bring out bravado and end in broken bones. The boys started out wisely and built up their abilities. It seems I was worrying over the wrong bones.
|The three amigos|