Today was awesome. No, it wasn’t the fact that the sky was the exact colour of the www.offroadmotorcycles.ca logo. No, it wasn’t the perfect temperature either. That’s just peripheral stuff. No, today was awesome because for the first time in Paris family history we got to go for a three-generation trail ride. Yup, Grandpa, Dad (me!) and the little Moto-Munchkin all got to play ride on perfect trails on a sunny Sunday afternoon. We’re talking about an age span of nearly 60 years here!

Dennis Paris on his first dirt bike at the old St.David’s Sand Pit in Niagara Falls.

This whole thing came together with an invite to go trail riding from John Parker, who if you recall from my story about him, was a racing hero of mine when I was a kid. Of course I jumped at the opportunity, only asking if it was ok if I brought my dad and daughter along. “Sure! No problem!” he answered, and a time and location was set.

Loading the truck and heading to John’s friend’s farm was almost melancholy in a way. As Munchkin babbled away in a nervous, and at times annoying manner, I couldn’t help but put myself in my Dad’s place 32 years ago, while at the same time in my daughter’s frame of mind. It seems like yesterday when I’d be nervous, excited and unsure about even wanting to ride as we aimed the Nova-clone Pontiac Acadian toward our local sand pit, which is now a yuppie housing development. As soon as I heard the bikes (at that time there were plenty of really fast guys riding out there like Jay Kimber and Paul Duncan on super-trick factory Kawasakis) I’d get butterflies. I’d be rethinking the whole idea of riding, being content to watch them until I’d finally get coaxed into firing up my little Elsinore 50. I could totally see those same emotions in my daughter as we pulled up the farm laneway and she heard the bikes.

My first dirt bike, practicing my now famous spode-style riding technique.

Also like me at her age she just wanted to ride double with her dad. She and I ride two-up a lot, and on my foo-foo XT we can make a pretty good time in the woods, just like my Dad and I did riding double on his old Can-Am back in the day. In any case, I made it clear that today she would be riding on her own. She met John and his friend Rob before getting herself changed into her riding gear as slowly as humanly possible. Part of me, and I am sure my dad too, was thinking that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.

Rob and John then led us on what is Munchkin’s longest single ride to date. With their patient help she took on clay, sand, gravel, exposed rock, stream crossings and root-covered hills. We all took turns riding in front and behind her, encouraging her and helping her get through tougher spots. She was all smiles and had a riot, her riding confidence growing by the minute. Her little practice track at Grandpa’s farm is going to seem pretty easy next time she rides there!

Moto-Munchkin on her first dirt bike! If I was her age again she’d smoke me. Bad.

It was fun for my Dad and I too, swapping bikes and having wheelie contests down every straightaway. Munchkin assures me that yes, Grandpa can still do longer wheelies than I can. Playing around with John and Rob on that family ride was great, especially on the TT course. For me it was a battle to keep John in sight. I could blame it on the dust, but the fact is I got schooled big time. And yes, both John and Rob can also do longer wheelies than me. I call a wheelie rematch, but next time I’m bringing my Foo Foo bike!

After a break Munchkin went off to see the horses with Rob’s daughters while the rest of us went on a more serious trail ride. Oh, and for the record the next time someone tells you flat track racers can only turn left you can tell them to shove off. Everyone has their specialties, but good dirt bike riders of any discipline are going to ride well no matter where you put them! We took on some really fun terrain, but the coolest thing? There was this rock ledge with a pretty sketchy approach dropping out of the forest and into a clearing. Rob and John and I jumped down it, but my Dad stopped and looked at it for a second before turning around and heading back into the bush. We waited, figuring he was finding a gentler way down. Being the eldest of the group, who could blame him?  But nope, he turned again and Braaaapppp he jumped down the cliff no problem. Suddenly it was 1980 all over again!

We hit the TT track on the way back, where once again I got absolutely schooled by the two flat trackers. So I traded bikes with John and got schooled again. Later I tried the TT course yet again when Rob dragged out his KTM 450F dirt tracker. I scared myself on that bike, but at least I was by myself at that point so I wasn’t quite as embarrassed by my spode-ness.

The bottom line is this: Today three generations of the Paris family got to trail ride together, which is pretty special by any account. On top of that I got to play ride with the guy I used to pretend to be while racing around the block on my BMX bike when I was my daughter’s age. Last week Lawrence Hacking wrote about the dangers of bubble wrapping our children in his column. Well, this weekend there was no bubble wrapping in the Paris family. No matter how many great stories Munchkin tells at school tomorrow you can be sure they’ll be a lot more interesting than the other kids’ lame stories about getting high score playing some stupid video game! Today was awesome.