Today we salute mothers everywhere. They love, they nurture and they get far less credit than they deserve. They wipe our noses, change our diapers and kiss our boo boos. Considering my chosen profession and the childhood experiences that have contributed to said profession, I've put my mother through the ringer. My famous last words growing up were, "Mom watch this!"
One of the most exciting of those memories was on a family ATV trip to the beach. Between rides I could be found jumping my bicycle off anything and everything around the campground. I found an awesome embankment that served as a perfect jump. The only problem is you had a small area to land and slam on the brakes or risk face planting off a 3-4 foot ledge.
On my final run I pedaled with all my might and accordingly, flew higher than I had all day. The rest is mostly a blur but I remember my front wheel hitting first forcing me over the bars and into a bush. I jumped up to see my mom sprinting in my direction with a look of sheer terror on her face. I assured her I was ok but it didn't seem to settle her much.
Since I started jumping ramps there have been a few phone calls that went something like, "Mom, I crashed again." Though she's never seen me jump, my mom has been one of my biggest supporters. She's always asking for the latest news, and demanding that I send along photos, articles and any other paraphernalia that I come across. (Sorry mom, I'm not that big time.) When I have my own bobble head in stores, I will truly know that I have arrived.
Bobble head or not, mom has always been in my corner and I know she always will be. Here's a new photo from a ride session this past week. Huge thanks to Richard Hurtado of Backdraft Photography for coming out and shooting photos.