Cybercolumn by Berry D. Simpson: Alive_110104

Posted: 10/29/04

CYBERCOLUMN: Alive

By Berry D. Simpson

We rode our all-terrain vehicles very fast up dusty roads to the Continental Divide at about 10,000 feet, up near the timberline. At first, the road was wide and smooth, and we just flew, driving wide-open, eating dust from the driver in front. As we got higher, the road got narrower and rougher, with winding turns through the trees. We drove through a little snow, but not as much as we’d’ve liked. There were plenty of dips to jump, and it was great. It was all about riding too fast and trying to stay aboard the ATV and keeping up with the group and not giving the rider behind a reason to say, “You sure are a slow driver.”

It reminded me of skiing in the trees near Aspen with friends back in the 1980s, when we skied narrow trails, too fast for comfort, too narrow for control, too close behind the skier in front to react if they fell, but doing it anyway because the thrill outweighed fear of crashing. As a result, we all skied better and faster than we should have.

It was the same with the ATVs—too fast and too bumpy, on trails through trees and along cliff faces with long drop-offs. It was too much fun staying together to think about slowing down.

The thing is, I’ve never done anything like that in my life. I’d ridden on an ATV a couple of times before, carrying feed or tools for Cyndi’s grandfather, but he would’ve killed me if he’d seen me driving his ATV like that.

This day, I was riding way above my skill level, and I’m sure I came closer to crashing than I knew. Since I’m not a natural risk-taker, but a risk-minimizer, much of the fun was living in the scary world outside myself.

It’s amazing what men will do to keep from being dropped by the group. We’ll do anything to stay on the team. Later in the day, I was surprised to learn that most of the other guys I was with had never ridden like that before either. I thought I was the only first-timer faking my way.

I did better when I learned to stand while riding over the rough spots. It wasn’t so jarring on my back, and my legs worked like shock absorbers, keeping me stable while the ATV jumped the rocks and holes. It was tiring, but my upper-leg muscles are strong, stronger than my back.

I noticed on the downhill stages we were cruising at 45 mph—wide open on these rented ATVs. It was a good thing, though, since 45 mph was fast enough to kill us if we made a mistake. My friend Jon said he had to remind himself he was a family man and 45 mph on a dirt road on an open ATV was plenty fast enough.

The last set of roads where David took us was the roughest, with more dips and higher bumps and jumps. We were flying off the tops, catching air and landing hard, always too fast for our own good. It was exhilarating. It was amazing. It was renewing. It was reason enough to be a man.

On several occasions, we found mud holes on the backside of a particular jump. I say we found them, which is to say we found them by landing in the mud. When we got back to the parking lot just in time to turn our ATVs back to the ATV man, well, we were a mess. We were grinning like little boys, but we were a dusty and muddy mess. We were filthy. We were beautiful.

Men draw courage from each other. We are braver when standing beside one another (or riding beside each other). When Robert E. Lee’s men moved across the broad valley near Gettysburg to attack Seminary Ridge, they advanced in long lines, walking shoulder to shoulder, pressed between the men on the left and on the right. Feeling the shoulders of the other men made each man braver. They shared their courage.

John Bingham wrote, “So it shouldn’t come as a surprise, as this generation reaches something that used to be called middle age (48?), that we’d be looking to recapture that spirit of risk. We naturally want to break free from passive restraints and protective packaging and total security and do something that scares us a little. It’s what we grew up on. It’s what makes us feel alive.

Berry Simpson, a Sunday school teacher at First Baptist Church in Midland, is a petroleum engineer, writer, runner and member of the city council in Midland.