This is our hill
(we are on the left)
Looking down - we are about 1/8 of the way up the hill.
Looking up - still 7/8 left to go.
The boys and I walk to the top sometimes to find someplace flat to ride bikes. Then they can leave their bikes there and we walk another hill, exactly like this one, down to the mailboxes.
Canaan rode his bike down the hill not too long ago, with success.
He slowed down often, in fact coming to a complete stop part way down.
Unfortunately, I think it gave him a bit of a big head.
This last time he tried coming down the hill, he did not have success.
When he hit the gravel at the bottom he skidded out of control.
He managed to slide between the trailer and the big pile of construction refuse.
He jumped the smaller pile of construction junk, flipped, and landed, he thinks, on his back with the bike on top of him.
There, where you can see the tall grass pushed down.
I was walking down the hill holding tight to Zion's bike. (He insists on riding also, but as well as riding the brakes, he never gets to shake off the Mommy brake!)
So, I was several minutes behind Canaan. When I got to our driveway I expected to find him sitting on the porch, seeking shade. Instead, neither he nor his bike were in sight. I figured he was trying to ride in the gravel and dirt at the bottom of the hill. He hates it, but occasionally gives it a try.
Then, I hear "Mommy". In that trying not to cry, attempting to be brave but really just wanting to sob voice only an 8 year old has.And I can't see him. I don't see his bike. I expect to see him wrecked in the gravel, and I can't see him. I can't find him. I am trying to be calm, "Canaan, Canaan" - but I am about to get to the panic mode, because I can't see him. I can't see him. Then I hear it again, "Mommy". And I am close enough this time to hear where it is coming from.
From the top of the ditch, he looks so far away. But, when I get there, he is standing up. So I go into "Reassurance mode".
"Look, nothing is broken. You are standing up and your arms work."
"Snif, Snif. I couldn't breathe for a minute."
"Yeah, I bet you got the wind knocked out of you. That's a big bike to have on top of you. I'm going to have to climb down in there and get you, aren't I. If I get poison ivy I am going to have to kill you child. You better hope there isn't any down here. Look, I'm even wearing flip-flops..."
He managed to come out of it with a black eye, a bruised leg, scraped knees and a bit of a sore stomach. That is all.
That is all.
We are so very blessed.
He hasn't wanted to ride his bike again yet. We have talked the whole thing up as a huge adventure, trying to make sure there is no fear left there holding on to him. I think I will encourage him to ride his bike again soon, before he only has bad memories associated with it. But I don't know that I want him doing that hill again!