My first motorcycle ride

I will always fondly remember the trips with Dad on the motorcycle. However, I do remember one time that was not a favorite.

When I was young, under age 7, Dad and I were leaving from the white house, the first one as you come up the hill, across from the Motel. I think it was called Hill Crest.

Anyway, Dad always parked his bike under the second floor porch. There was a row of bushes (I am not sure what they were) from the stairs to the edge where there were a few retaining walls.

As we came around the bushes at the edge of the driveway, above the retaining wall, we began to tumble down the first area.  In the picture below the retaining wall is to the right and is very overgrown. :0)

No one was hurt in the process but I was one scared kid.