Never Again

Are you familiar with the game Chat Pack?  Dorothy brought the deck to our luncheon last week and our group had a good time selecting cards and answering the questions.  The questions are thought provoking such as. “If you were writing your autobiography, what would the title be?”.  The game is meant as a conversation starter, not that our Writers’ Group needs a jump start on conversation but it was fun.

I was stumped by my question until I thought about it seriously the following day. My card asked, “What have you done one time that you never want to do again.”  

I have to go back to the early days of my life with Monty  somewhere in the 1990’s, I guess.   Monty and I came from different backgrounds.  He was outdoorsy and adventuresome, a great day for him was an afternoon spent out on the dirt bike. I was big on a walk in the park sort of thing.  At about this time several of his friends bought Honda Pilots.  These were one man machines designed to take out to the dunes.  Monty had one and went out with the guys a couple of times but he missed his best pal and travel partner.  She was home walking in the park.     

Monty likes nothing better than a challenge, along those lines he decided to build a sand rail or dune buggy so we both could ride.  I didn’t give it too much thought, he was excited about the project and that is always a good thing.  So he was off and running with designs and parts lists.  The first thing he needed was an engine, after giving it some thought, he decided a motorcycle engine would be just the thing.  Wouldn’t you know his nephew had a motorcycle, one referred to as a crotch rocket. I think there was some kind of ultimatum his wife issued and the rocket was for sale.     

The garage quickly turned into a  mechanics paradise. The disassembled rocket sat in the center of a pile of steel and wires waiting for assembly.  In time the dream became reality, it was a good looking sand rail with buckets seat out of an old Mustang. Comfortable to sit in even with all the required harness regalia. 

We took the buggy out on some desert roads on the west side of town and drove around a bit and it was fun.  Fun is relative, it might have been a bit more fun for the driver than the passenger.  The first thing I noticed is we were sitting very close to the ground and the ground was going by faster than I imagined possible. 

The ultimate test of Monty’s  ability to build this machine and of course his driving skill was put to the test on the dunes.  I’m not saying this trip to the dunes was a macho thing but the group of guys we were camping with were all anxious to see how Monty’s buggy performed. 

If you look at pictures of sand dunes you see miles of lovely sand in beautiful swirl patterns.  You might have driven by the Imperial Sand Dunes Recreation area on your way to LA.  You might even have caught a glimpse of a few of the sand rails with happy smiling people waving.  Apparently having the time of their life out there in the great outdoors .  

We had the required  helmets and just like a Disneyland ride here were lap belts and chest harnesses.  This should have given me the first clue what kind of adventure this was going to be.  

The dunes are smooth and Monty drove the contours of the sand like Mario Andretti.  Some of the contours fell into what are called ‘witch’s eyes’.  Witch’s eyes are wide, deep holes in the sand.  Picture the weatherman’s view of the eye of a hurricane, that’s a witch’s eye.  

As you enter at the top of the eye and you drive around and around the eye until to reach the bottom and do the same thing coming up out of the eye.  When you reach the top everyone stops and congratulates each other on the great ride, I on the other hand,  was struggling to get my helmet off before I threw up.  It was  not my finest moment, six guys all standing around doing the high five thing while I’m trying to hide behind the buggy and lose my breakfast .

I was beginning to rethink the whole dunes thing when the guys started lining up below Patton Hill.  Unbeknownst to me Patton Hill was known as the ultimate test of man and machine. Here is where every guy out there tests his machine and skill maneuvering up the 300 foot incline.  Several from our group had already tried and failed to reach the top.  

As the guys stood around to watch us, Monty whispered, hold on, he hit the throttle and we took off like we were shot out of a cannon.  When we crested the hill the guys were all looking up at us cheering.  Monty accepted the accolades with good grace, he knew both man and machine were ready for that test. Me, not so much, not only did my mouth still taste like the bottom of a bird cage, now my pants were wet.     

I believe this is where I quietly told Monty what I thought of my experience at the dunes.  The next day we rode serenely around admiring the lovely swirls in the sand and avoiding the witch’s eyes. We didn’t have to do the hill climb because everything was already proven.  

You can guess that this was the ‘one thing you’ve done once and never want to repeat.’  We never went back to the dunes to ride and sold the buggy soon after that trip.