A New Path…

So I was going to write about one thing, and decided at the last minute to take a new path. A path less traveled some would say. Sometimes, there is a reason you should take the path already established, not the one you have to make…and this begins tonight’s story.

Anyone ever had a Go-Kart? I received one from ‘Santa’ one year and was so excited. Of course, it was the one Christmas here in NC that we had so much snow that we were unable to take it outside because of how much snow was on the ground. My Pop’s though, he packed up the Go-Kart and took me to my uncle’s newly built turkey houses (minus the turkeys) and I rode all day long, back and forth through the empty building!

The Go-Kart was only a 5 HP Go-Kart, which means it wasn’t strong enough to flip no matter how hard I drove it. I drove it all the time. Donuts in the yard. Drifting before it was a thing. Just tore the yard up. Pop’s grass never stood a chance…and he never got mad!

So our yard isn’t that big (only an acre), and I would forever be coming up with new ‘paths’ to take around the yard. There was a narrow corridor beside my Pop’s truck and a dogwood tree that I would drift through (my sister use to ride with me and I would often hit the tree, hurting her in the process…but that’s a story for another day), a playhouse built up like stilts that I could ride under, clotheslines to bob and weave though…imagination is a wonderful thing!

One particular summer day when I didn’t have to babysit my sister, I was staying home by myself while my parents were at work and decided to ride my Go-Kart for a little while. This was not out of the normal routine by any stretch, however, on this day, I would blaze a new path. After riding my normal paths around the yard, my little brain started working and I knew what I had to do.

My Pop’s truck was always in the driveway, as he had a work truck he would use Monday through Friday. His truck was cool to me. It was lifted a bit, so it had some height on it. Seeing this, and knowing I needed a new route, I felt that a tunnel was in order! How cool would that be?! (Not cool at all, as I was about to find out).

Now I’m not completely stupid, contrary to popular belief. Before I would ride my new path and travel through my tunnel, I wanted to make sure that the Go-Kart would fit. I’m not looking to kill myself. I drove my Go-Kart to the truck, hit the brakes, and got up to assess the situation. What do you know? The Go-Kart fit perfectly under the truck! I pushed it from one side to the other, all the way through. The tunnel was about to happen!

I drove to the other end of the yard. A tunnel like this needed full speed Captain! Keep in mind this was the late 80’s, early 90’s…no protective gear at all. No helmet. No elbow or kneepads. We weren’t pansies! (Fooooorrrrrrreeeeee-shadowing). I must also tell you, friends, that my Go-Kart also had no brakes. I had burnt them out long ago and my feet moved to the sides and pushed in the dirt was brake enough! And now, as Paul Harvey would so eloquently put it, is the rest of the story…

Approaching my newly formed ‘path’ and tunnel ever so quickly, I noticed that the tunnel looked very small. I mean really small. And it was approaching quickly. But I had run the numbers! I had tested my hypothesis! I knew it would fit! I pushed forward.

The closer I got, the lower the clearance Clarence (Roger Roger). A little bit closer now…a little bit closer now…

It’s at this moment, fellow readers, that the smart part of my brain begins to process what is about to happen. Yes, the Go-Kart will fit, but…have you ever seen an Indy Car. They go really fast, and also, the driver’s head sticks up over the body of the car. Well guess what? The Go-Kart would fit…but I didn’t take into account my head sticking up over the steering wheel, adding many more inches to the actual height. Go-Kart, head rising above it, tunnel approaching…you know what happens next!

The only way to slow down was pressing my feet into the dirt. This came too little, too late. WHAM! I was fortunate not to knock myself out. The front half of the Go-Kart made it under the truck, but my head stopped the rest of it from getting through. My feet are good brakes, but my head is the ultimate emergency brake! As I sat in a weirdly contorted position (most of my body forward, head embedded into truck door while moving backwards), I thought to myself, “Self, this isn’t too good.” Go-Karts do not have a reverse…I had to use my feet to move the Kart and myself backwards and get my bearings back. Once I did, I assessed the damage. Go-Kart = A-Okay. Pop’s Truck = smallish dent. Goober = Massive headache and dent in brain.

Fellow readers, I continued to ride that day (after I got the dent out, a plunger works wonders). I stayed on my own paths, nothing fancy, just easy riding. Pop’s never found out, and I am not sure if I ever told him about it. The Go-Kart is now a relic of the good times I had as a kid. Who knows where that truck is now? If you take anything away from this, know that your normal path allows you fun. It’s safe. It’s reliable. It gets you where you need to be. If you ever think you need a new path, take your time and make sure it’s right for you. Make sure it’s safe. Test it slowly, not full speed…and most of all, make sure you big a$$ head can fit through it!