Father’s Day has always been extra special to me. I basically grew up without a father and decided early on that I was going to have a close-knit relationship with my kids and Father’s Day seems to be a good extension of that ethos. It didn’t hurt that I had two boys and we have the same interests so the bonding was just that much easier.
I never celebrated a Father’s Day before I had children so I didn’t know what I was missing. I’m sure all the dads out there can relate but it”s a great day to just be. No work or chores are expected of me and I’m pampered throughout. Father’s Day usually starts off with a funny card, and I have yet to have a bad experience on this holiday.
This Father’s Day was destined to be one to remember. As I’ve written in this space earlier, my oldest son is going into the Air Force so this will probably be the last Father’s Day I get to celebrate with both my boys for the next four years or so. Now, as I stated above, we all have basically the same interests, so when it comes to what I want to do it’s a no-brainer. We loaded up the dirt bikes on Sunday and went riding. If you get the three of us into a group and ask what we want to do the answer is going to be the same 100 percent of the time.
This time around we decided to hit up a track in Denison that we haven’t been to in years. The track itself was great and, incredibly, there were only four other riders when we got there and none when we left. We basically had this great, prepared stretch of land populated with tacky dirt, jumps and corners all to ourselves. Heaven.
I should have known it was going to be an odd day early on. My youngest went out on track before us and by the time I got out there he was axle deep in the only muddy spot in the whole park. And, of course, I was the first to find him so I got the sweet job of pulling him out. Once I figured out that his bike was still in gear and all the pulling I had done to that point was useless things got a whole lot better. Still, my 44-year-old body was not too happy with me at this point.
We had a great day of riding but, as I often do, I tried to ride past the point of exhaustion. I was sitting on track taking a breather and decided I had one more lap left in me when I put my foot down and my leg cramped up. I mean really cramped up - LeBron style. I tumbled off of my bike, rolled and banged my elbow on the only rock within 100 feet of me and tried to walk it off with my leg refusing to bend. Beautiful.
The falling didn’t stop there, only the next time it was my motorcycle’s turn to take an awkward tumble. On the way home we decided to pull into a car wash and blast the excess mud off of our bikes and riding boots. The bikes were all loaded up on a trailer so it was pretty easy. Coming out of the car wash, however, things got tricky. Apparently, all that blasting soaked the wood and caused a piece to split where my tie-down bracket was mounted. Driving down the road I happened to look in the side mirror and saw my bike come loose and tumble over - luckily onto the bike next to it and not off the side and into traffic.
So, here we are in a parking lot after a few pulse-pounding seconds of trying to get off the road without my bike planting itself into the grill of the car behind us and we’re manhandling a 235-pound piece of metal, rubber and plastic from a trailer and into the back of the trick. At this point, every muscle in my legs are cramping up and my body is screaming “enough!”
It was a fabulous Father’s Day, and I mean that truly.
These special days are meant to be remembered. Not all special days are that special and so not all of them get logged into the permanent collection files we carry around with us, but this was definitely one of them. I was tired, sore and starving by the time we finally got unloaded and I planted myself under the ceiling fan in my favorite chair but I would not have changed a minute of it.