Sunday, March 18, 2012

Pump Tracks

Note the balloon rising by the mountains. Yes, it's New Mexico.
Heck ya.

My little girl is a walking contradiction of the best possible kind. She is going to drive the world wild one day. I really know she will.

She tagged along with brother to the local dirt bike park, and she did pretty good representing her sex.

Wearing a mini skirt, flower tights, a purple bike with streamers and a basket in front. Not to mention a butterfly helmet. She took to the dirk bike park like it was her business and it made no difference that not only she was the youngest kid there, but the only girl.

She wanted to wear heels, but I made her change.

This dirtbike park has about 10 different tracks, or courses, ranging in difficulty level. Tigo and his friends went off to the more difficult levels after getting some good practice on the first run. But I kept Azalea closer in on the first track, mostly because I'm a nervous nelly.

So she goes out pretty slow at first. One of the things is that once you get going you are supposed to get enough momentum that you don't need to pedal, just "pump" the bike, to keep it moving. But she needed to pedal a little. So she would go around the first. And then stop.
Tigo going for a ride.

The second time around she totally wipes out. Bike on top of her. I tell her good job, you did great, let's get a breather. Meanwhile, I'm thinking to myself that she wants to high tail it out of there. But we move over to the bench to rest for a moment. Then I ask her what she wants to do now.

"Let's go."
"Lets go where?"
"Let's go do it again."
She totally rocks.
Yes, she does.

Oh and then, after many more falls and recoverys. Each time I tell her she did a great job. Finally she turns to me and says, "You keep telling me that I'm doing a good job falling down. Is the point to get hurt?"