The Great Zip-Line

When I was younger, my brother and I would stay at my grandmother’s house during the summer while my father worked. Most of the time my cousin Ivan was also with us because his parents worked also.  One summer day, when I was eight, we all decided to build something. Being young we had no idea how to use any tools, so we just used things we knew. The great thing about my grandmother’s house was she had a garage full of any and everything… you name it and it was there. From gardening tools, to boxes of used clothes, and even toys! In front of her house there were two massive trees, they were evenly lined up about 50 feet from each other. That summer day we had a great idea, we decided to build a zip line. 

After a quick scan in my grandparents garage we found a thick strand of rope and for the trolley we had the brilliant idea of using an old rusty hanger. Our plan was simple, find sturdy branches on each tree and securely tie the rope to the branches. It was easier said than done. My brother, cousin and I had one important question. How were we going to get up the massive tree? There were no branches that were close to the ground so my brother was chosen to climb the tree. Ivan and I locked our hands and lifted my brother so he was able to grab a sturdy branch. When we figured he was high enough we threw up the rope for him to tie to the tree. After he had a secure knot he ascended down and jumped out. Hoping the rope would reach the other side, we began to walk to the other tree. For some odd reason the rope was the perfect length and my brother went up to attached it to a sturdy branch. The Zip line was almost as tall as a one story house and it was as tight as a guitar sting.

After flicking the rope a couple of times with a broom, we declared it safe for transportation. I was truly mesmerized because it looked like it would actually work. Knowing that Ivan and I were much bigger, we elected my brother to be the test dummy. After minutes of trying to persuading my brother to try it, he finally gave in. With the rusty hanger in his hand, Ivan and I helped my brother up the tree. I could sense he was nervous, I shouted out some reassuring words. The usual “everything will be fine” and” It’s gonna be fun”. After taking a deep breath he placed the hanger on the rope and leaped off the tree. I remember this part clearly like as it was yesterday. The rope snapped and he fell to the floor. It has to be one of the funniest things I have ever seen. His body looked like one of the stiff manikin from the department stores. Frozen with fear, Alex, my brother, fell feet first. My cousin and I busted out laughing and I almost cried. Alex got up brushed the grass from his pants and began laughing with us.

At that moment all three of us felt like we had built something that was far superior to anything we had done before. Even though it didn’t work we all felt accomplished. To this day all three of us still laugh about it and sometimes we even discuss trying building it again.

The Great Race

I cannot recall the exact year but I can remember what happened. It was a week after Christmas for sure because my brother and I had received brand new bikes. Mine was a maroon colored mongoose bike with black handlebars. As for my brother he received a dark blue mongoose. My brother and I were at my grandparent’s house, which is where we kept our bikes because at that time my mother was living in a tiny apartment so there was no room for them.

It was a bright, hot sunny day when my brother and I decided to go out and take our new bikes for a ride. These bikes were our first ones without training wheels. My dad had taught us how to ride them a week prior so my brother and I felt comfortable using the bike. My brother and I felt like big kids because we didn’t have to use the dreaded baby training wheels anymore. After a couple of drives around the block I decided to race my brother. As I was soon to realize a lot of negative things happen when I come up with ideas. My brother, a year younger than me, agreed to race. The rules were simple; the first one back to our grandparents’ house was the winner. If I can remember correctly, we were only about a hundred yards away from her house. My brother and I were lined up equally to an old beaten up trash can left on the road. We did the usual countdown 3,2,1 and GO! As we took off I remember going pretty fast, things in my peripheral vision quickly faded as I zoomed down the street. Being fairly new to two wheel driving my brother and I were not able to keep the bike going steadily straight. As we got closer to the house, I was able to see our father outside watching the “great race”. My brother and I were equally fast so we were going to tie the race, as I took a glance at him I noticed he was losing control. His bike ran right into me and we both flew off as if we jumped off a swing set. As I hit the pavement, a shot of pain rushed through out my body. Being young I began to cry. Crying seemed like the only thing that would stop the aching. I looked at my elbows and noticed they were covered in blood as were my knees. I looked at my brother who was a couple of feet away from me. He was out cold. My father who was luckily outside ran to him and I limped. As we approached him we saw a puddle of blood near his leg. My father slowly turned him over because he was faced down. What I saw would be burned in my mind forever. His leg was cut open from his knee to half of his leg. I saw a white surface which I was soon able to understand was his bone. My dad in shock called 911 and within ten minutes they were at the house. My brother had to receive twenty stitches. After we left the hospital my brother had to be on crutches for a couple of weeks while his leg recovered. He is fine now and his leg healed great.

This memory will be in my mind for the rest of my life because I feel that it’s my fault. If I would of never had asked to race I would of never had witnessed that horrific event. I also remember this because seeing my brother’s femur was the worst thing I had ever seen at that point.