Crazy in our youth

Back when I was 19 years old I had a 1976 Honda 550four which my brother and I (mainly my brother*) chopped. Out cruising with Jerry one day, he on his knucklehead chopper, I decided, in the spur of the moment, to do a little hill climbing. Along the side of of Oral School road there were two cliffs, (a hill cut through for the road). I jumped on the throttle, turned off the road and flew up one side along the edge and down the other. By the time I was halfway up the hill, hardtails having very little give, my feet were now longer on the pegs, they were straight out behind me with my stomach on the seat and just hanging on for dear life. The only thing keeping me on that bike was the firm grip on the bars and a cranked throttle.
I cleared the top and came down the other side back to the road laughing the entire time. Jerry, parked on the road below, was just shaking his head. This would be one of many excursions into the woods, down trails, and regular forays into places street bikes weren't meant to go. We have a tendency in our youth to be fearless and unaware of the possible consequences. 

In my 10-13 years we used to build underground forts in the woods, we built one up on a cliffside and the only way to get to it was a running start down a hill, down a boulder, then jumping a ravine to another cliffside before scampering up to the top of that hill. (Unless you wanted to go swamp wading, which of course being young and dumb we did also). I went back to that cliffside when I was about thirty as a visit to memories. I walked down to the area we used to jump, looked down into that ravine, looked over onto the rocky area we used as a landing area and decided that, as a kid, I was stupid.

(*) My brother could do anything, he was the one that paid attention as my grandfather taught him how to do things, welding, cutting, painting, wood work, metal work, electrical, forging, etc)