There was frequent chuckles emerging from the backyard as various objects made perfect thresholds for destruction. He laughed raucously after falling heavily onto the upper deck. The ice was still compact but began to alleviate itself, creating a slick surface to glide across. Grabbing the bright orange safety cone, the boy continued to grind fearlessly across the wooden picnic table. With a consecutive fall, we fusillade with amusement. I remember the bitterness that night, not of attitudes but through the cold. Although that winter was relentless, my friend had made the nights somewhat enjoyable.

Skateboards, four wheelers, and dirt roads led us to illusive adventures. This boy stood statuesque above the Earth, as if he was invincible. I was amazed at how spontaneous he could be, at any moment something new could arise. I recall the sounds of a weak motor elevating from paved road to grassy terrain. My heart raced as the exposed vehicle spun and bound into the leafless branches towards a small decent. While creating donuts in the backyard we laughed carelessly. Shortly after there was some smart idea about flying down a massive slope. This slope of cold, black gravel was met with four small wheels and a piece of wood meant to carry a sixteen year old boy at high speeds. I guess it was the adrenaline rushing through our veins that compelled us to use our surroundings as a teenage jungle gym whenever possible. Today, I look back on the many days and nights spent out near the river. On countless occasions, many unpropitious things could have happened. All of these memories I savor with a smile, and thoughts of a fearless friend.