The NBL Easter Classic and a Very Special Anniversary

Our Sarasota Felt crew:
Meredith Lidstone, Joey Lynn Henderson, Gabe Hatem and William Parker

In case you've heard negative rumors in the past about Sarasota BMX, I'd like to put a halt to them now. The moment we pulled in on Friday, friendly volunteers directed us to where we could pitch our canopy and park our trailer. Throughout the day, volunteers rode by on golf carts to ensure that we had all that we needed, and to answer any questions. The boys loved the new track, and I loved the air-conditioned "royal" trailer, that was kept clean all weekend.

We had a small Felt crew, and a small Schanewolf crew--- just enough for team sheets.

On Saturday, we enjoyed watching William's new team mate Meredith Lidstone give'm heck in the 40-44 women's cruiser class, and show the 20-somethings in women's x that forty is fabulous.

William raced strong and fearless in both classes Saturday, and rode away with wins. Wyatt helped the Schanewolf crew by going 1-3-1, and 4th in the main.

On Sunday, Wyatt made the podium with a 3rd place finish. William, after winning all motos in 9x and cruiser, felt ready for the main. In 9x, a bobble off the gate caused him to come up short and finish second. In cruiser he got tangled on the first jump, and went down with two other riders. William was disappointed of course, but fortunately, no one was hurt.

Four years ago today, William wasn't so lucky....

An edited repost of 
Sometimes They Fall: a Story of Courage

April 24, 2007 was the last Tuesday in April. I know this because my book club meets the last Tuesday of every month. It was going to be a big night at the track. The weather was beautiful and the track was pristine. The BMX dads had a fish fry planned. I opted out, choosing instead to discuss Out of the Flames with my book club ladies. Not that I had much to say about the Restoration and Holy Trinity. Vann took the boys to practice and join in the fun.

My phone started ringing during our heated discussion of Michael Servetus, and his gory demise at the stake. I'm never interrupted at book club. I answered. The voice on the line was forcibly calm, hiding panic. "William is hurt. I need you to come to the track now."  I began spewing questions, but the only response was, "Get here NOW."

I left abruptly, trying to control my speed, all the while wondering why on earth I wasn't meeting them at the emergency room that I was driving past. The drive seemed too long. I hurried. The phone rang. Hurry. Hurry.

I saw the ambulance first.

After a full night of practice, followed by a race, the kids ate dinner and continued to ride. It was almost time to leave when William was hit. The other rider didn't see him. I was told that William cried out and went silent. When they tried to lift him, his left femur folded, and the ambulance was called.

William was sprawled on the track, the color gone from his face. He wasn't crying. He was loaded into the ambulance with me beside him. He was immediately stuck with an IV and given the maximum dose of morphine a 55 Ib body can take. The pulse in his left foot was checked repeatedly for signs of a severed femoral artery. We looked like a parade arriving at the hospital, with everyone from the track following behind the ambulance.

"Only three visitors allowed", we were told, as all but Vann, Wyatt and I dispersed. William's pants had to be removed for the x-ray. When the technician began cutting his pants, William began to cry. "I know it hurts baby", I soothed. "My new pants!" He sobbed. They were brand new red Fox racing pants. Then he turned to me quietly and asked, "Mommy, will you please get me some boxers in case this ever happens again?" Apparently he picked the wrong night to wear his Darth Vader drawers.

Watching William's face during his x-ray was torture, and I wanted to borrow his morphine drip just to get through it. The technician summoned us to the screen. It didn't require a phd to see that William's left femur, the largest bone in his little body, had snapped like a twig. In my nauseated stupor, I asked, "Is it broken?" (The image shown is a week after the accident. It's probably a good thing that I couldn't locate the emergency room x-rays.)

We were informed that the pediatric orthopedic surgeon had been called, and was on the way. When he arrived, he quickly explained that William would be prepped for surgery, and surgery would be performed immediately if the bone could not be set externally.  It was past 11:00, and Wyatt was asleep in a chair. Vann needed to get him home, and was forced to leave with all the uncertainty looming. Soon after, I was introduced to the team of surgeons, orthopedists, nurses and anesthesiologists who had been assembled to put our son back together. When it was time, I kissed William, and held his hand for as long as they would let me, as they wheeled the gurney to the O. R.

William has been the cause of the longest hours of my life: first, his laborious natural birth, then, this. Time stood still as I fidgeted restlessly and made necessary phone calls.

After three hours, William's chief orthopedist, Dr. Fahey, materialized in the waiting room. The cast application had been successful, and the bone had been set externally. William had been placed in a spica, which you really have to see to believe. I was led to recovery, where William was just waking up. He looked down. "Oh God", he muttered softly. I held his hand again as we were checked into our room. Drowsy from morphine and anesthesia, I thought William would sleep. Instead, he cried softly the rest of the night. I cried too, because I didn't know how to help my son.

After, well, the worst night of our lives, William finally slept. Visitors and nurses came and went. Vann arrived after taking Wyatt to preschool, and we were informed that William would be discharged that afternoon. We were scared, but relieved that he would be home with us. Vann sent me home at last to shower and try to gather myself before collecting Wyatt. 

My phone was ringing when I arrived home, and it was Kim from my book club. "What happened? How's William?" I'm sure she wasn't expecting the earful that she got.  Then she asked,  "how are YOU?" I looked down at myself, in the same clothes from yesterday, now dirty and smelly from the bmx track and the long night in the hospital, and all I could do was blink away tears. "Oh, I'm fine." Right. I'm really glad she didn't fall for that one, because she immediately gathered the troops and lined up our dinners for the following three weeks. If you don't go to church, I highly recommend joining a book club.

Vann arrived home with William a few hours later. We were given no instructions on how to care for him. We had no clue how to carry him, put him in the car, or wash his hair. Leaving the hospital, Vann was given no assistance putting him in the truck, while poor William was crying in pain. The nurses in the hospital looked at William as if he were an alien, and it had taken three of them to figure out the best way for him to go to the bathroom. How were we supposed to do all this at home?

The first week was terribly difficult, as William was still in a tremendous amount of pain. Vann and I took turns sleeping in Wyatt's bed to be near William, and Wyatt would bunk up with one of us. William had always slept on his belly, but now had to sleep propped up on pillows, with more pillows positioned under his knees. Full of pain and frustration, he didn't sleep much.

William spent his days in a chair in our living room where he was most comfortable. He would doze off while reading BMX Today or BMXer, dreaming of getting back on his bike. It didn't take long for overwhelming boredom to set in. The following Tuesday, William announced that he wanted to watch bmx practice. On that first night back at the track, I think everyone wondered if he would in fact return to the bike. Our big burly track director, David Shields, held back tears, and had to turn away so William wouldn't see. What no one seemed to realize was that the thought of not returning to bmx never entered William's mind.

Three days after the accident, William's kindergarten teacher, Ms. Kenton, came to visit. William still had one month of school, and we weren't about to let this hold him back. She convinced William of how much the class missed him, and that he should come back when he felt up to it. We made arrangements for Wyatt to go to preschool five days a week, and I accompanied William to kindergarten for the remaining month of school. I'll admit, sitting in the cafeteria day after day with a bunch of kindergartners who couldn't open their milk cartons was a little trying, but I was so happy that William could still participate. His classmates were wonderful, and would take turns throwing the ball with him at recess.

Still, William suffered continuously from the frustration of being immobile. His dad, brother and I were constant cheerleaders trying to lift his spirits. After a couple of weeks, I was beginning to feel quite sorry for myself. Having William in that body cast was like having a 60 Ib baby that could bark out orders. My back ached from lifting him and his equally heavy wheel chair. My mind was numb from attending kindergarten. I was pathetic.

One particularly rough day, I dropped into bed exhausted, questioning again how we were going to get through this. Now, you may or may not believe me, but my dead grandma has a weird way of popping up when I least expect it. That night, her voice loud and clear in my head said these words:

You can not change what has happened.

You can decide whether to be weak or strong, or negative or positive.

I sat straight up in bed and vowed right then to end the pity party.

On Mother's Day, William received the best surprise. We were invited to watch Ricky Carmichael practice on his local track. Ricky and his buddy Ben Townley jumped high and did tail whips, and generally did a marvelous job of showing off. William loved it. Best of all, Ricky was the first to sign William's cast. We still have it, and it looks like a strange, headless body.

William's 6th birthday rolled around, and he chose to celebrate at the track. Originally, we had made plans to surprise William with a trip to Disney World. Just so you know, even if your child has a major accident and is in a body cast, that stupid mouse will not refund your deposit. We made the most of it just the same, and had a good night at the track. The boys pushed William around, and threw the football with him. (Pictured: William with his friend Keagan.)

Time dragged on, and after seven weeks the big day for cast removal finally arrived. William couldn't wait to ride a bike, and I couldn't wait for him to take a bath. We quickly learned that things don't always go as planned. William's leg was healing at an angle, and we held our breaths as Dr. Fahey debated surgery once again.  Because William was growing so fast, he gambled, betting that William's growth would ultimately correct the problem. The decision was made to remove the spica and put William in a long leg cast.

William was glad to have one leg free, and quickly became somewhat mobile again with the help of a walker. He would practice in the yard where it was safe for him to fall over. I taught him the classic phrase, "I've fallen and I can't get up!" Being able to move around a bit helped ease the disappointment of still being in a cast. 

Three weeks later, we had better luck. The bone, although crooked, had fused well, and William was free at last. It would still be several weeks before William was allowed on a bike, but the day the cast came off, I let him ride his brother's big wheel. I had to carry him on and off of it because he still couldn't walk, but he could ride that big wheel like a champ. It wasn't long before he could begin using his trainer. This helped to strengthen his legs before he actually started riding. 

When the day came for him to return to the track, everyone paused and watched as William, limping severely, but fearless, walked up the starting hill, 

and rode again.

On this Easter Sunday, I feel full of pride and love for my boys, and abundantly thankful for their strength and good health.

Wishing you the very best--

BMX Mom

BMX Interrupted: Take me out to the ball game

It's tough being the younger sibling of an over achiever. I should know! When baseball season rolled around, and Wyatt expressed an interest in playing, I wondered how we would manage months of separate practices and games. With the help of fellow BMX mom and dear friend Dede Bryson, who organizes youth sports for Parks and Rec, we decided to age Wyatt up and put him on William's 9-10 team-- the Astros. I was worried though. I didn't want Wyatt to get discouraged during his first season of baseball, or feel out-shined by his brother-- again.

"Little Man" is always ready.

Practices began, and Wyatt's effort and enthusiasm were apparent. He ran the outfield like a jack rabbit, bounding after every ball whether it was hit to him or not. Although he seemed adept at fielding grounders,  fly balls were missed one after another. "He'll get it eventually." I heard the coach say. William, of course, caught many, and his strong arm threw easily to make a double play.

After several practices, Coach caught wind that Wyatt was only seven, and nick-named him "Little Man". While his strength wasn't that of his older teammates, he always hustled and listened intently, gaining more with each practice.

Last night the Astros had their season opener. Everyone had first game jitters, and the competition was tough. Wyatt sat the bench for the first inning, while he watched his brother run in a nice base hit. The game went on, and Wyatt was placed in center field. He saw little action, but remained alert. The game was close- too close. With bases loaded and two outs, we heard the loud crack! of the bat. It was an incredible hit, and time stood still as we watched it rocket towards center field where the Astros' "Little Man" raised his glove...  Then... "Little Man got it!! Little Man got it!!" The shouts from the coach brought cheers from the parents as the outfield ran in high-fiving their "Little Man". During the commotion, I caught William's eye. For a fleeting second it was there-- the look of pride that said, that's MY Bubba.

BMX Mom

Fast Times in Peachtree City: Family, Friends and Fun at the Georgia Peach BMX Nationals

William and Ricky: fast friends and fast riders

The Robinsons did it again. The Georgia Peach National event was run flawlessly. Shayne Robinson is like the "Super Nanny" of the BMX world. When she says jump, people start jumping and asking how high? in unison. Most importantly, the restrooms were not only open, but relatively clean. See? It can be done!

Nothing beats having family at the races

On a disappointing note, there was one reported theft. A bike belonging to a James Bisson was stolen on Saturday. Here's the description: "Bike was a gold pk ripper xxl, black bars, polished JW stem, bombshell carbon forks, blue profile elite hubs laced to polished alienation rims, alienation seat and seatpost, dxr cranks with a rennen sprocket, and time z pedals. If someone suddenly has these parts, ask 'em where they got 'em." If anyone has any information that might lead to the recovery of James' bike, please contact Peachtree City BMX. FYI James, we're the family who accidentally closed the elevator door on you at the Wyndham. Sorry!

Madeline Perez and her boys
Photo credit: Phillip Habib

Saturday's weather was the epitome of spring in the South. We all shed our hoodies by mid-morning to enjoy the warm sunshine. With 218 motos, there was plenty of time in between to hang out with friends and visiting family. My much loved dad, aunt, uncle and cousins came to cheer on the boys and spend the evening with us. Nearly all of the Factory Felt/SC Action Sports team was in the house, so William had a great time with his buddies, while we enjoyed the company of all the parents.

William in 9x
Photo credit: Phillip Habib

Aside from a fall in a cruiser moto, it was a great day for William. He dominated 9 cruiser and 9

expert, repeating his near-perfect day on Sunday. Wyatt rode hard, but was unable to transfer to mains on Saturday. I was proud he made it to quarters in 8 and under cruiser! Sunday was better though. He easily cleared motos and semis to make the 7 challenger main. He's working hard and getting faster all the time.

Gabe Hatem flying high in 10x
Photo credit: Phillip Habib

The Factory Felt team was full of WIN. Aside from William, Gabe Hatem and Ricky Castro finished strong in 10x and 10 cruiser. Coleman Habib dominated 12x and 12 cruiser, and the rest of the team had podium finishes as well. Most of all, we had a great time being together.

There were several other stand-out riders I noticed in Peachtree who I would like to give kudos to. 9x rider Dylan Shipley keeps getting faster, and kept William on fire all weekend. I was glad to have our good friend Keagan Bryson back at his first national since the 2009 Grands. I can guarantee it won't be long before the other 11 experts start seeing Keagan's backside. Keep it up! Our 10x buddy Grant Green showed us he can take it and give it back. Ride strong Grant! I couldn't help but notice Wyatt's Schanewolf teammate Jamie McHenry (8 challenger girl). Keep shining Jamie!

That about wraps it up. The upcoming nationals have a lot to live up to after a perfect weekend at Peachtree City BMX! We had so many great photos, I'll leave you with a few more.

See you in Florida!

BMX Mom

William doing the head-shake
Photo credit: Phillip Habib

Everyone's favorite photographer and driver- Phillip Habib

Winding down after a long day with my good friend Mandi Green

There's No Place Like Home: State Qualifiers at the FWB Dirt and Vert

There's a feeling I get pulling into Fort Walton Beach, FL. Surrounded by the all-too-familiar, in a town where if someone doesn't know me, they know my father, sister or husband. My stress melts in the comfort of home.

My dad moved his young family to Fort Walton Beach from Ramstein AFB in Germany in 1972. My mom shopped at the only grocery serving Fort Walton and Destin at the time-- Kelly's IGA. Nearly forty years later, the building remains, but it's now a boring mattress warehouse, next to a What-a-Burger that replaced the Hardee's I knew as a child.

On our way to Bill Madden's Dirt and Vert (his family has been in FWB longer than mine!), I couldn't help but feel twelve years old again. While Destin has morphed into the unfamiliar, Fort Walton remains trapped in a time warp. I waved at the green dinosaur at the Goofy Golf that's been big fun for FWB families for longer than I've been around, and where knocking a ball in the snake's mouth still rewards you with a free game. Across the street is the new location of "Joe and Eddie's". Once located on the "Strip", it was the post-revelry hot spot for a 3-egg recovery omelet. As we turned off 98, Vann and I pointed out our alma mater to the boys as I sang them the FWBHS Viking fight song (daaaaa DAAAAA da dun-dun-dun-dun...) with my hands in the air. Vann and I talked the whole way about who used to live in this house or that, and oh that hasn't changed a bit.

We arrived at the track for a Friday afternoon skills clinic. William spoke very highly of Mr. Lackey, who headed up the clinic, and both of the boys worked hard to get ready for Saturday's race. William had some trouble with the 4th straight rhythms, and took two ugly spills trying to get it right. I always have the "what ifs", especially where William is concerned. I relaxed as I recalled that I went to New Heights Elementary with the local orthopedist, who would be happy to see us.

Following the clinic, my dad took us for dinner at another FWB icon, the Hightide. Down the street from my childhood home on Okaloosa Island, it used to be adjacent to the Seagull (known as the "Dirty Bird" after midnight), where my mom and her friends would dance the night away. Hurricane Opal took the Seagull in 1995, but the Hightide survived. After gorging ourselves on fried grouper and a dozen raw, my dad decided to get some fresh air and take the short walk to his condo, while we headed in for a good nights rest.

Vann, Heather, Stacey, and Vann's best friend Mike- 1989?

Rain loomed on Saturday as we hoped for a break in the unpredictable Emerald Coast weather. Sure enough, the rain stopped just in time for two rounds of practice. The race was able to start promptly at 11, and was run at an efficient pace. It was an awesome day for both our boys. William, a little cautious in his motos after his falls the day before, was able to go all out in the main and take perfects in both classes. Wyatt had his first 7 challenger perfect, making it a triple-perfect day! As an added bonus, my childhood friend Stacey brought her son Brody to watch the races. I was elated to have Stacey by my side yelling for my kids with perfect ex-cheerleader style. Brody and Wyatt get along like peas and carrots, and Brody said after he gets a racing bike he wants Wyatt to "tell him his secrets to win."

We headed back to Tallahassee after Saturday's race, not needing to stay for Sunday.The race was a much needed confidence booster for both of the boys, in preparation for nationals in Peachtree City later this month. As much as I love Fort Walton, I was happy as I woke in my own bed this morning, when the boys jumped in to ask their dad to go get Krispy Kreme. After all, there's no place like home.

Beaten, Battered and Brokenhearted: Trials and Tribulations at the ABA Gator Nationals

The Parker Brothers made history in Oldsmar last weekend. For the first time ever, neither made the main. It took me a while to recall it, but it's been four years since William has missed a main. Believe me, it hit him like a ton of bricks.

William getting a pep-talk from teammate Samantha Brown.

Without elaborating, let's just say that on Saturday, William made some major errors that stopped him from transferring out of motos. Wyatt transferred after his first round, but was unable to clear his semi.

Embarrassed and heartbroken, William was determined Sunday to not only make the main, but place well. He cleared motos, and fought hard in his semi, only to get tangled up in a turn, taking two riders down with him.

He's feeling absolutely mortified, and ready to train harder. He's not willing to have another main-less weekend.

So how do we mend this brokenhearted BMXer? As a mom, it's a bit challenging. My reaction is to hug, kiss, and console, and tell him it was all ok. But, it wasn't ok. He underperformed and he knows it. Instead we helped him understand what went wrong, and discussed what he could've done differently. Then, of course, he received enough hugs and kisses to hopefully make it all better again. After all, he's disappointed enough for all of us.

Wyatt (center), with William and Gabe Hatem, just wants to have fun.

On the ride home, William asked Wyatt, "Aren't you upset that you didn't make your main?" "Well", Wyatt said, "I would've liked to have made the main, but really I just want to have fun. I had a great weekend!"

Well said baby brother.

In case you're wondering why this post is nearly a week overdue, yours truly has been down with what I can only describe as the Black Death. I'm quite certain I know where it came from...

Next up- Peachtree City, where I for one hope the ladies room will be open.

BMX Mom

Great Expectations

Some of my best old pals and me in the good ol' days
Photo Credit: Stacey Miller

All of my old high school chums know how I dreaded the end of every six weeks. A mediocre "B" on a report card would see my coveted phone ripped from the wall until straight As were once again achieved. The only time my mom willingly accepted a "B" was following a long period of daily trigonometry tutoring she certainly couldn't afford, but conceded to anyway, to keep me from failing. Oh, I shiver now at the thought of bringing home a "C". That meant no drinking beer in the woods, ahem, no movies for six weeks.

Last week, while reading Amy Chua's essay Why Chinese Mothers are Superior in the Wall Street Journal, a bell went off. I had a Chinese Mother.

My mom  and my sister Wendy, 1968

Of course I don't mean that literally. My mom was a blonde, green-eyed, Scotch-Irish beauty who lived life to the fullest. I've missed her everyday for over six years now. What I realized, after too many years, was that my mom EXPECTED me to bring home straight As because she knew that I could. Crap. She was right. Piano lessons and rigid music theory were a huge part of my life until my final pitiful guild performance of Starlight Waltz brought me to tears, and my mom accepted at last that I had not inherited her natural gift for tickling the ivories. In contrast to Mrs. Chua, however, I was always allowed sleepovers, and participation in school plays was cause for celebration.

This reflection on my childhood has caused me to examine my expectations as a parent. Not only do I expect straight As from my boys, I demand them. I expect and demand of them to be better than me in every possible way. Just like a good Chinese Mother, I hover over them after school until the work is done, and promptly send them outside to play, ride bikes, sprint or do plyos. A "B" on anything is never praised, but questioned. My boys know all too well that if they bring home a grade below a "B" that traveling for BMX is out.

Wyatt inherited not only my mom's blonde hair,
but many of her talents too.

The vast difference between my mom and me is that she was a single mother, which meant there was never anyone hovering over me to confirm that I was meeting expectations. It was up to me to motivate myself, or suffer the consequences.

Mrs. Chua states: "To get good at anything you have to work, and children on their own never want to work... Tenacious practice, practice, practice is crucial for excellence; rote repetition is underrated in America."


Hmmm. I agree, with one exception-- children on their own never want to work. Of course they do! It's called self-motivation, and it must be taught.

One of William's better gates in Columbus.
Photo credit: J-Rods Photoshop

William has been plagued with gate trouble since his elbow dislocations, first in August (read Delusions in my Head), and again in October (read Déjà vu). He has worked and worked to try and regain his "snap", which he says he no longer feels. This past Saturday, we took the boys to ride the ABA track in Middleburg. Without a word from his dad or me, William did gates repeatedly. By the end of the night, improvement was obvious, and he was visibly pleased with himself. On the drive home, I asked him what he felt he had accomplished during practice. "My snap! I felt it. It's back!" This, he accomplished through his own self-motivation and will.


One thing I've learned is to expect more from my boys than they expect from themselves. Many times they've crossed the line in first, grinning from ear to ear, and said, I didn't think I could do it. Their dad and I look at each other knowingly and say without doubt, WE knew you could.




BMX Mom

NBL Christmas Classic: Winter dreams do come true

The excitement of Christmas quickly abated as we headed north early on December 26th to race the NBL Christmas Classic in Columbus, Ohio. Flurries began falling before we hit Atlanta, and the boys actually chose the scenery over movies and ipads. Just north of Knoxville, the weather turned into what any Floridian would certainly call a blizzard. In the midst of watching cars swerve off the road, and snow plows rumble by, my dad calls to ask if we've packed an emergency kit with flares and blankets. Um, no.


With darkness falling, and Vann growing more weary by the minute, the snow finally stopped, and the road cleared before we hit Ohio. "See?" I said. "Winter dreams do come true!" My nerdiness brought chuckles from the back seat.

The next day we watched the President's Cup, and realized that with a 300+ moto count, we were going to have to extend our stay. William met his new team mates, and was so excited to get to know them. He was thrilled with his new gear, and it was like Christmas all over.

Thanks to Big Daddy, we were the first ones in the convention center on day 1 of the Christmas Classic. After a brief practice, Wyatt took a long nap, knowing it would be several hours before his first moto. He never seemed to fully awaken, and was unable to clear semis in his first novice (excuse me-- challenger) race.

William's cruiser main (Photo credit: bmxnow.com)

William, however, was excited-- maybe too excited. In his first moto in 9 expert, he barely saved himself from flipping the gate, and did an interesting nose manual down the starting hill. He couldn't replicate it if he tried. Incredibly, he righted himself and raced on to take 3rd. After that, he had no trouble winning his remaining motos, and taking a 2nd in the main. There is definitely no shame in coming in second to DK rider Spencer Cole. That kid rides like greased lightening. William would love to come in ahead of him one day. The 9 cruiser class actually had semis, which is a first as far as I know. William perfected the day in cruiser, and felt confident for day 2.

Vann let the boys sleep in the next morning, knowing that they needed rest more than practice. Wyatt had a better look about him, and seemed ready to give it his all. He easily cleared motos taking a 3 and a 4. His semi brought tears to my eyes as I watched him qualify for his first challenger main with a 3rd place finish.
Winter dreams do come true.

William with team mates Coleman Habib and Samantha Brown

William had gate trouble again in his 9 expert main. He rounded the first turn in 6th, and turned on the jets. He crossed the line in a close third, not willing to accept anything less than a podium finish. Cruiser class was a repeat of day one, with William taking another perfect.

That night, the boys blew off steam running around with friends, while we relaxed at the bar. As exhausting as it was, we agreed it was the best race event ever. The best part was adding new friends to our bmx family!

The next morning, William, pale from fatigue, looked sadly out our hotel window. "Everything ok?" I asked. Quietly he said, "I don't want to go. I had forgotten how much I love to race." A moment later came the question... "Can we go to Indy?"
Maybe... IF...
Winter dreams do come true.

Felt 2011 (photo courtesy of Samantha Brown)

From our family to yours, have a happy, healthy and prosperous new year!

BMX Mom