Buggy
My brother Ben and I were slowly making our way down the west coast for days. We passed through Reedsport, Oregon and decided to camp there for the night. As we went to check out the sand dunes before nightfall we couldn't help but notice the dune buggy outfitters off the main drag. That sounds fun. This activity immediately got added to our itinerary the following day.
We hit the shop first thing after breakfast and the owner walked us through the basic safety protocols and penalties for mishaps like capsizing in the ocean or rolling over. Documents were signed. We paid for an hour rental and were shuttled to the launching point.
Ben strapped in and was the first to scale the massive slope into the sanctuary of several square miles of sandy hills to explore. His buggy revved effortlessly over the edge and out of sight, and then it was my turn. I hit the gas and vrooom! The power was shocking and exhilirating as I flew upwards and over to the other side, already feeling like a different person - a child again - a whole new universe available to me of swervy ups and slippery downs and sometimes taking flight for a second. None of this existed in my reality before last night. I had no idea such joy was possible much less this particular path to its attainment. But here I was fully experiencing this alternate dimension of pure freedom and happiness.
I was so captivated I suddenly realized I was alone in my bubbly world of sand and gas fumes for over 10 minutes already. I spotted Ben's vehicle belching exhaust in the distance and altered my course to catch up to him. Soon I was by his side, both of us gunning our buggies full speed across a small valley. Under his big, dorky helmut I could still clearly make out Ben's face to see he was laughing uncontrollably. It was only then I realized I, too, have been giggling non stop this entire time.
As our hour ticked away we parted ways to venture on our own and then rejoined our paths, attempting more and more daring climbs as we became more expert. Sadly our time was coming to an end, and we agreed to go around together for one last spin. This is when Ben took a tight turn on a slope and his buggy leaned a little too much... and flopped over onto its side.
I stopped my buggy and ran over. He was alright - these things have roll cages and such - but he had to struggle a bit to undo his seatbelt and get out. We pushed the thing back onto its wheels, and we wended our way back to the meeting spot. A shop handler, as per his regular duties, noted the various dings that were par for the course but also spotted the oil leaking from Ben's buggy - a clear indication that it took a spill.
Back at the outfitters the owner was nice enough about it but reminded us that, "rolling the buggy was a naughty naughty," and for this offense we were charged an extra $15. Worth it.