The ice had
barely moved down the river on its way over the mighty Niagara Falls when
swimming fever hit us hard. Our parents did the same thing when they were our age,
so they couldn’t say much. We would ride our bikes to a place called the “Shoots”
which was a part of the river that got narrow then opened wider quickly causing
a rapids affect that could be a real danger and a challenge for even the best swimmers.
There was a railroad trestle above the shoots where we would sit or stand
getting up the nerve to jump in. It was a kind of right of passage with big
bragging rights for all that succeeded. I remember my first time like it was
yesterday. My buddies egged me on and after a few frightening minutes I just
dropped off the trestle and into the churning ice cold water below. It was like
getting the wind knocked out of you, but the battle was only half over. Getting
back out of the rapids was tricky and more than one kid ended up down in the
main part of the river and got out there having a long walk back to the shoots.
The trick was to come up as fast as possible and grab onto one of four heavy
ropes dangling close to the surface then pull yourself back up to the trestle.
I made it on my first try grabbing the first rope and coming up out of breath
but smiling all the way. We would spend hours at that place jumping in and
getting out, it’s a wonder nobody drowned but that was how we rolled back then,
and the shoots was just one of the things we did when finding things to do
meant more than choosing a video game.
www.mikeoconnorwriter.com
www.facebook.com/mikeoconnor-author
www.mikeoconnorwriter.com
www.facebook.com/mikeoconnor-author
No comments:
Post a Comment