It was a beautiful Midwestern evening. The heat of the sun had dissipated, and a cool breeze
carried the sweet smell of wild grasses swaying in the golden glow of the setting sun.
I was out for a bike ride—anything to get away from my house and soak in the last moments of
summer before school began.
I lived in a rural community with few neighborhood kids, which is why I was so transfixed by
what I had just stumbled upon.
Slightly off the path at the end of a dead-end street, I heard voices and decided to investigate.
There, behind the trees in a small, rolling field, were three boys slightly older than me. They
were laughing as they navigated their bikes through a course of ramps, mounds, and
obstacles—some kind of BMX track they had assembled. They raced, chased each other, and
were completely absorbed in their world.
I watched them with a mix of excitement and longing. It reminded me of all the ’80s movies I had watched about young boys and their adventures. To have a group of friends. To have a secret hideout, a place to belong. To race down the sunset until our parents called us inside.
I never had that, and, man, did I want it. These boys had it.
Now imagine the wave of joy and fulfillment I felt when one of them stopped, waved to me, and
said, “C’mon, join us.”
-Ryan Peterson
