Enough already! Preserving this hazardous, lethal, killer creek. When I lived here in the '70s, we'd go out to the creek in our raggedy duds on whatever junky motorcycles we could borrow. We had fun. Lots of it.
It just happened that one day while us motley ragamuffins were taking a break, a big shiny cycle came over the ridge with a loud snarl typical of the two-stroke motocross racers of the time. The rider was bright and shiny in his new competition finery, (leathers/loud logos, etc.), as he raced down to a corner at the creek.
He paused briefly, revving his motor, (WWIIIIINNNNGGGG-ning-ding-ning), as he contemplated his next display of motocross moxee.
With a curt nod to himself, he stood up on his pegs, gunned the motor, popped a wheelie, entered the creek and promptly disappeared in about eight feet of muddy water. Luckily, he surfaced after a while. I never did see the shiny new motorcycle come out that day.
It's high time we cover and pave this devourer of motorcycles and humiliator of proudly dressed young riders.
MARK RAUCH, Kennewick