JT and the Tri Rod

JT hadn't seen much of his Father in those early years after the divorce. Within another few years GB was divorced again and moved to northern Ohio, near where his sister had settled. JT (JTB) was still spending a weekend each month with his Grandparents, RB and MB. MB had always called his grandson "Chief" and somehow that got translated into JT calling his Grandparents, Grandpa Chief and Grandma Chief. They just lived a few miles from our new home and I was able to continue a good relationship with my ex-in-laws. They were perfectly aware of their sons actions and never blamed me for the breakup. I don't know how much JT really missed his Father, but he still had his Father's family in his life on a regular basis. As far as divorces go, I guess I chose to believe this one wasn't too hard on JT.

JT joined cub scouts, but wasn't interested in 4-H. Then he and W discovered something called a Tri Rod. I've tried to find one on the internet, but will have to rely on my memory. I knew they hadn't been made for years, but my search turned up nothing even close. It was a three wheeled, low to the ground, 8 horse engine, go-cart kind of contraption. It looked sharp with a yellow gold fiberglass body. You sat low between the back wheels with you legs stretched out in front of you and steered with two handlebars that extended from the single front wheel up between your knees.

It was not street legal, but could traverse almost any ground. The 8 horse engine had enough power to carry anyone anywhere. Yet, it was easy to handle and I wasn't afraid to let young JT take off on it. With acres of woods and fields behind us, he had plenty of room to roam and explore. The neighbors let him on their property with just a promise from me that I wouldn't blame them if he got hurt. Soon we had trails all through the woods and JT and his friends were content to play with the Tri Rod day after day. Some of the wider logging trails behind us offered some perfect, natural jumping spots. I did wonder how many wild mushrooms they had destroyed with their trails, but I was glad to see my son making some of the same country memories that I'd had. Though mine were on horseback and his was with an 8 horse engine.

There were some bumps and bruises, but there was never a serious accident. Though I discovered for myself how close we must have come to some. I was riding back in the woods one day on a old lumber trail. There was a rather sharp curve and just before the curve there was a big wheel rut that I discovered could launch you right into a tree where the trail curved away. I was able to avoid the collision, but when I came to a stop, I noticed where bark had been skinned repeatedly right up the side of that tree. It was obvious JT and/or his riends had been sent flying into that tree on more than one occasion.

I also learned first hand, that the single front wheel would climb right up a tree if you lost control and got off your path. That was a thrill. Almost lying on your back with your legs above your head and with all that power pointed at the treetops above you. Imagine if the back wheels had still been able to make contact too. Our county is hilly and our woods also had a steep revine right behind the house. Then there was a small pasture behind the woods. There was a lot of land unfenced, and all kinds of terrain to roam in. And JT's Tri Rod got a lot of hard use. But, TK was too young, at that time, to ride. Things had changed by the time he was old enough to ride the Tri Rod. So his riding memories would be of a different home. The six years between brothers, and unforseen circumstances, made their childhoods very different.