The four of us riding on Dad's Indian motorcycle to visit Grampa and Grammie... me on the gas tank then Dad, then Bud and then Mom... full house, but smiles all around.
Dad scooping me up after falling off the rolling barrel and carrying me into the house where Mom was waiting with the cold washcloth to wipe off the blood from under my chin and a bandaid to cover the boo boo so that I could go back outside and try it again.
My first minibike that Dad made sure was safe for me... didn't have much power but it was safe... got me where I needed to get to... a bit slower than all the rest, but I got there. I don't think Mom was too crazy about me having a minibike, but Dad was a good teacher, and I always wore my helmet...
Riding snowmobiles up Red Hill on the coldest of days. So much fun! Sitting behind my Dad, and then him letting me drive for a bit once we reached the summit.
more to come.....
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