Barrels and Tires

Barrels and Tires

“ZORB^® globe riding is the latest and greatest adventure activity to come out of New Zealand. Yes, that's right – New Zealand - the innovative little country at the bottom of the world (next to the penguins) that brought you Bungy Jumping, Hobbits, and a range of other crazy things to do while on vacation!!”

So begins the Zorb interactive internet web page. A Zorb looks to be a giant clear globe in which humans strap into and roll down a track. My wonderful niece recently experienced Zorbing first-hand. I can honestly say that taking a trip in a Zorb looks to be quite exciting. You enter the one-story tall plastic ball through a small tunnel-like opening on one side and strap yourself into the seating chamber. Then it’s off you go down the bowling alley gutter in a hilly field. But Zorbing is nothing new, really.

Many moons ago, the neighborhood provided me with unique ways to pass the days. One such time consuming activity was tire rolling. Some mysterious neighborhood force would summon all the neighborhood kids to the empty field between the Grosso’s house and the Garst farmhouse on a seemingly random day. The field sloped quite nicely, a perfect place to launch old tires. The idea was to start a tire rolling down the hill and see how far you could make it roll before it toppled over. Tire drag races were common. Two tires guided by expert child “slappers.” Slapping was a special technique developed by the best of the tire guiders. As the tire rolls to the bottom, the slapper would run beside it and slap the top of it if it deviated from true course. Slapping off center gently steered the tire right or left.

Brave children would sometimes climb inside a tractor tire and race down the hill hoping to avoid old man willow and mailbox row at the bottom. Fitting inside a tire was a bit unnerving. Someone held the tire upright and you climbed in straddling the tire. Then you lifted your feet inside the inner loop of the tire and compacted yourself into a ball shape. When ready (or not) the pushers began the launch. With Bobsled-like effort the pushers gave the tire a boost on its journey. I’ll never forget the feeling of seeing the world turn upside-down repeatedly. The trip took no more than a few seconds and it ended with a stop by safety volunteers, a slam into the tree or mailboxes, or a crash on the track.

During very special sessions on the hill, the barrels would appear as if by magic. You see, back then, everyone burned their trash in a metal barrel in their backyard every few days. When a can rusted out, it would need to be replaced. So it was vital to have a few extras lying around. Old metal chemical barrels made excellent fire pits and human transportation machines.

Riding down the hill in a barrel took some nerve. The ride was always extremely loud, especially when the barrel runners banged on the barrel with sticks as it rolled down to meet old man willow. All the barrel passenger had to do was climb in, brace against the side, and get someone to give the barrel a rolling start. With luck the trip was straight and true. More often, the barrel would careen and veer violently from side to side until the contents were spilled onto the hillside.

I’ll most likely never visit New Zealand or Pigeon Forge to ride a Zorb, but the neighborhood always seemed to provide thrills.