I can still see the fear clinched braces shining from my panicked brother’s mouth as he rode his bike off the cliff. It’s a memory that still haunts me to this day. “Haunt” is not really the best word; actually it’s a memory that still causes me uncontrollable laughter.
How he ended up riding his bike off our mountain driveway is testimony to what boys do. It started with a bike that had no breaks. The bike also had solid rubber tires, and was indestructible (we know, we tested it well.) The bike was an old small bike that had seen better days. The only fun we could have on it was to just coast down a hill or push the bike along with our feet because the peddles were missing, and there was no chain. Also did I mention there also were no brakes?