My bicycle opened up a whole new world of adventure. Ronnie, our new friend Lewis, and I rode together daily—after school, on weekends, and all summer long. We rarely had to knock on each other's doors; we just knew we'd be out riding soon.
Before long, the neighborhood streets weren’t enough. Curiosity led us beyond familiar roads, testing how far we could go without getting lost. The only rules? Don't hit anything and don't get hit by cars.
One of our favorite discoveries was Ganesha Park, home to Snake Hill. The best part was the steep road—climbing up one side and flying down the other. On one ride, my brother Bruce and his friends, including Mike McKinney, joined us. One by one, we sped down the hill, leaving space between riders to avoid collisions.
At the bottom, Bruce looked around. “Where’s Mike?”
We all turned back up the road. His bike was stuck high in a tree. Moments later, Mike emerged from the woods, miraculously unharmed. None of us knew how they got his bike down, but that day, Snake Hill claimed its first victim.
Would you love to hear more of these childhood misadventures?
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