There used to be a lot of open space in Cherry Creek. One area in particular, across from the YMCA, was filled with dirt bike paths. These were huge hills, well, they seemed that way to us back then. We were forbidden to go there, but like all kids, sometimes we didn't listen. On the only occasion I remember, Ivy and I snuck out to ride the hills. It was a rush and it was almost like mountain biking, without the mountains of course. Well, this one time I skid off my bike and cut open my knee. It was bleeding pretty badly (I probably had needed stitches) All I can remember is crying to Ivy saying we didn't need to tell mom. "Please, I can just wash it off in the creek!" Anyway, we had to go home and fess up, I think we got in trouble. I just remember mom making me wash my knee and put it in the pool water. To this day, I have the scar. Long live "Hillbilly Hills."
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