It was an especially beautiful fall morning. The sky was clear, the temperature comfortable. Once we were half a mile from our house, we saw some antelope and mule deer. The yellow, red and orange leaves on the changing aspens were beautiful.
When we reached Boxelder Route, we knew we were going to have to watch for traffic. It was the beginning of antelope hunting season, so the road would be busy with the morning hunters. We rode on the shoulder where we would be farther away from traffic. The larger pieces of gravel made it harder to ride, but it was safer than being on the road.
Jack sometimes went down hills too fast and almost lost. I really didn’t want that to happen today, because of the extra traffic. We made it down and up the first hill with no problems. On the second hill, I was the one who began to swerve in the newly discovered mud. My heart was racing. I was swerving more and more as I gathered speed. Fortunately, by the time I made it down the hill I was beginning to gain control. As I zoomed up the next hill I finally began to slow down enough that I realized I had been so concerned with myself that I hadn’t been paying attention to Jack. I hoped he would not have my near catastrophe, since he was four years younger than I. Despite his outer toughness I knew that when he got hurt he was the biggest baby. I knew of several times when he had fainted when he nicked his hand. I anxiously watched as he safely maneuvered the same course.