-used to be...

...high up on the old mining road, we were riding our mini bikes as fast as they would go. I lost my dog, couldn't find her, because of course, she was either left behind in the confusion and noise, or she chased something into the rocks. We had climbed high up into the mountain, dust hanging in the air, as the oil trucks, that in those days sprayed waste oil to keep the dust down, didn't go that far.  I looked for her of course, and was worried about her. It was summer, but not hot like it is these days. Also, we lived in the mountains, and had climbed to the top of the little bluff. Probably a thousand feet higher. And we were young and jazzing around at high speed, you know, for fun. No helmets. Hey it was off road, and the '70's. We didn't think of it I guess, although I had a helmet for sure. About a half an hour later though, I was rewarded with my friend, Jerry, coming back down the road towards me. His bike was covering ground at a mad pace, the little motor a thousand bees as he used the motor to decelerate. Covered with dirt, her tongue lolling from her mouth, she was sitting on the front of his mini bike, with her paws on the handlebars. Jerry was triumphant, and Reo was having a wonderful time with the wind blowing her floppy ears back. She rode that mini-bike with him all the way back down the mountain. I tell you what, I'd give a nickel to have a photo of that. Can't imagine a better day to remember.