wipeout

One of my all time favorite memories of my dad was rollerblading at Itasca State Park.  I was a hockey play as well as my brother, and my sister figure skated.  We all rollerskated before we rollerbladed and he was left in the shadows.  It was a rather wonderful late-spring weekend in 1997 (i think) and we decided to take a day trip to Itasca State Park to rollerblade and hang out.  My mom stayed home because she wasn't feeling well and us three kids and dad went on our adventure.  On the way dad stopped and bought some what seemed like GIGANTIC rollerblades (at least comparably) and our excitement filled the car . . .dad was nervous.  My dad is 6 ft 4 in and thin with long legs and arms. For him the idea of rollerblading was silly but he was game because we thought it was cool.  It was all fine and dandy until we began to approach a bridge in the path that happened to be located at the bottom of a hill , thus we were at the top.  My dad picked up speed faster than we did and soon came barreling towards us.  He lost control of his balance weaving around us and ended up biffing it and skidding onto the bridge.  He must have laid there laughing for a good 10 minutes before he moved.  He was just afraid of running one of us over so a few minor scrapes in comparison was no big deal.  I will always remember that day, it reaffirms that he'd do anything for us, even rollerblade down a hill with no previou experience.