The two-tiered dam

Motion is a mainstay for me. I’m in love with it. Motion through sound, sight, physic, reading, feeling or thinking – I love all its guises.

Went mountain biking with Sam yesterday at Hopkinton State Park. There are some wonderfully manageable trails for differing levels of ability. Sam boogied down one trail and without hesitating plunged down a rather steep-ish (to me) six-foot tall hill – down to an empty access road.

I ‘braked’ my way down said trail. Hey, I did purposefully ride over some rock humps – the ones Sam carefree-ly bounced over. As I watched my son disappearing down the road toward the dam, I came to a full stop at the top of that six-foot tall steep-ish “hill”.

My logical self knew this was a very mild and do-able challenge, but my primal-fear self crashed around inside blasting out myriad absurd cases how attempting to do so would end life as I knew it.

My logical self won out – I pushed myself back up on the seat and let go the brake. Unbridled joy.

We crossed the wooden bridge to the dam. In Winter I once witnessed a father and child on a tube push off from the top of that dam (which is a sharp descent in two tiers) and watched them fly soundlessly into the air off that first tier and crash down to the ground in a shambles, with said child suffering a concussion.

I saw Sam eyeing the descent and my logical self won out again – “I’ll ride across the top to the trail winding down on the other side. Meet you at the bottom.” Off I went. I’m great at the flats!

Unbridled joy again as I watched that boy push off, flow down the first descent in a seamless stream, cross the short flat and down the second. One fluid, graceful motion.

There are some motions I’m happy to experience vicariously through others.