Perfect Three-point Landing

Christmas brought many joys, including the gift of roller skates for Dennis and in-line skates for me. Ten years ago, Dennis nearly broke his wrist during a fall with in-line skates even while wearing wrist guards. So he returned to the familiar, conventional roller skates with four wheels in a rectangular pattern and good brakes on the toe of each boot. My in-line skates were worn out and given away during last year's garage sale. The new ones seem very high-tech, more like a ski boot, for far less money than the original pair. Along with the skates, each of us received protective gear for knees, elbows and wrists. This essential equipment protects joints during the inevitable fall.

We live near a series of paved public trails which interconnect from Diablo Valley College to the foothills of Mount Diablo itself. The segments nearest our home run along a canal, and many people enjoy the trail on foot, bicycle, skates, or walking their dogs. Roman joined us for our first outing on the trail. I kept him on my left side as I gently accelerated. Roman began to trot, and he looked up at me as if to say, "Finally!" We covered about 1/4 mile before arriving at a cross street. Deciding to turn around, I braked and then turned toward the edge of the paving to allow joggers to pass me and continue on their way.

In that instant of losing concentration, I leaned backward too far and began the frantic whoops dance. This is the well-known dance lacking grace or poise during which your feet attempt to regain traction, but instead you appear to be a clumsy Rockette making rapid, partial kicks toward the sky until you are truly airborne. In that brief instant where none of your appendages are touching the earth, the reality of "I'm going to fall...hard!" dawns on the one brain cell not trying to regain secure footing.

When single-wing fixed-wheel aircraft make a perfect three-point landing, the nose gear tire and two tires under the fuselage touch the ground at the same time. My three-point landing involved the simultaneous impact of both elbows and my butt on the asphalt. Wump! The protective gear worked as designed, and instead of pain I felt some relief that the first fall was out of the way.

As I skated back toward Dennis, Roman towed me at a fairly good clip. I think his Bernese Mountain Dog genes kicked in, and he might become a great draught animal after all. Instead of a beer wagon, he can pull me. We will both lose some weight!

Happy New Year!

P.S. Dennis did not fall at all. He is far more stable on roller skates than I am on in-line skates. Still, we each like our respective choices and look forward to longer outings in the future.