The Gravel Pit
In the next few years we grew bolder. On Saturday nights we'd camp out on the rim of the pit, building a fire in an indented area that couldn't be seen from the road. You would never think that a meal of hot dogs, Kool-Aid, and Twinkies could be so good. We could also see the sky better away from the neighborhood lights. I loved lying there looking at the stars, and we saw quite a few shooting stars as well. I had no idea I could be this happy without a TV in front of me.
At age fifteen we all bought motocross dirt bikes. If there was a better place to ride motorcycles off-road than Killins, we hadn't seen it. We got away with riding them there, but one fall day, the police came flying in. With only one road into the pit, and very steep hills on all sides, we had nowhere to run. We were busted.
We all received $30 tickets and were told to not come back or we would be prosecuted. We thought it was pretty fair treatment, considering that we had been blatantly trespassing for a few years. It was mid-October, and there was only so much good riding weather left, so we paid the tickets and let it go.