Teenage boys are not exactly famous for the their common sense. And then for some reason we allow them to operate machinery capable of 80 miles per hour. Billy took a portion of the money he earned last summer as a deckhand on a salmon fishery and spent it on a pretty darn fast snow machine and has spent the better part of this winter attempting to break himself into bits at top speeds across the ice and snow. Last weekend he finally succeeded…well, maybe not to bits, but he did fracture the scaphoid bone in his left wrist.
Ask me how he did it. Go ahead…ask me!!
He drove over himself with his own snow machine. That’s right. Flipped it, rolled it over himself, and ran the high speed track across his face and forearm.
I asked the doc to cast his throttle thumb, to no avail. So they wrapped up his arm and sent him on his way with instructions to return in six weeks time for an evaluation, and then likely they’ll wrap it up for another four. Hoorah. That’ll slow him down.
“All this does is take away my ability to use the brake,” says Billy “And I never use that anyway!”
Okay. Maybe it won’t slow him down…