poem of my special place.

 ruakaka motocross track

Motorbikes soaring weightlessly over massive jumps.

Fresh fumes coming from the motorbikes exhausts.

Roar of the two-stroke and four-stroke motorbikes at the starting gates.

Cold breeze pounding on my face as I go off a jump.

Dew in the air as I ride rapidly around the corner.

I have a good chance of getting a good place.