Taming Dragons
The ones I've tamed, and those that have tamed me.

By Keith Childress

Preface

I’m sitting on my ’06 Harley Wide Glide revving the engine.  Ahead of me is one of the meanest stretches of road in the world. It’s an 11 mile length of US 129 that sits on the Tennessee / North Carolina border in the Great Smokey Mountains.  What makes this particular stretch of road so treacherous is the 318 hairpin curves contained within the 11 miles. It’s appropriately dubbed “The Tail of the Dragon.”

Riders come from all over the world to challenge “The Dragon”. It’s “Mecca” for the daredevil “crotch-rocket” crowd.  Several riders have given their lives trying to tame "The Dragon", while many more have been seriously injured.  At the southern end of “The Dragon” rises a memorial called the “tree of shame”.  Thousands of twisted parts from wrecked bikes dangle like ornaments from the tree.  There are also several memorials to the riders who gave their lives trying to “tame” the dragon. 

I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since a buddy of mine told me about The Dragon several months before. My heart is pounding, my palms are sweaty.  The low-grade chronic fear I’ve been carrying in the pit of my stomach since I was a kid is no longer low grade; in fact, I realize that I’m scared to death. I continue to Rev the engine as I begin to question just what in the hell I’m doing here.  I’m nearly 49 years old, I’ve only been riding a few months after a 22 year layoff and while I’m not in bad shape, I’m not 20 either. I wonder what I was thinking when I talked myself into doing this.

As my confidence starts to wane, I hear Tom Petty’s song “I Won’t Back Down” playing somewhere in the back of my head.  “You can stand me up at the gates of hell, but I won’t back down.” Even though every instinct of my being is telling me to turn the bike around, put it back on the trailer, and head home, I know in my heart there is no way I can do that. I’m going ride the dragon; or die trying.  “I won’t back down”, or more accurate, I “can’t” back down.  I don’t have it in me anymore. 

As the fear wells up inside of me I say “fuck it”.  I gun the engine, pop the clutch, and head up the mountain to face the dragon.

The first dozen curves are large gentle consistent radiuses.  I lean into them, keep the speed steady as I glide through he curves with little effort.  “No problem, this isn’t so bad”, I think to myself. 

I notice as I ease through the curves that I have riders coming up from behind that are gaining on me. My pride won’t allow them to pass, so I increase my speed.  I’m leaning hard into every curve now. I find that the more I lean, the faster I can go. I keep increasing my speed as my confidence builds.

All of a sudden, I encounter my first “switch-back” curve. The radius is very tight and inconsistent.  I downshift rapidly trying to slow the bike, but it’s too late, I’m into the curve and my speed is way too fast.  I lean further into the curve, my foot pegs scrapping the pavement causing sparks to fly.  I’m headed for the edge of the road and the 1000’ drop off the side of the mountain.  A split second before I go over the edge, I tap my breaks slightly, slow the bike, and regain control.  My heart is about to jump out of my chest as I feel a surge of adrenalin shoot through me.  My God, I have never felt so alive!!!

I have a slight straight away before the next curve, so I gun the bike to get the speed up.  I downshift rapidly as I enter the next curve.  I lean hard into the curve.  I’m surprised how far I can lean without dumping the bike.  There’s more scrapping, more sparks fly.  On and on it goes, mile after mile, curve after curve, close call after close call.  When I finally hit the straightaway at the end of the dragon I feel a great sense of relief; “I DID IT!”.

I rode the dragon back to the beginning, and knowing what to expect, I did it a little faster the next time.  After dinner, I decided to ride the dragon up and back at night.  This added an entire new dimension to the ride.  All I could see was what my headlights illuminated directly in front of me.  The road was disserted, so it was a little spooky riding alone.  I kind of half expected to see the ghosts of fallen riders as I rounded every corner.  I thought of the scene in the movie “The Shinning” when Danny encountered the ghosts of the two dead girls while rounding a corner on his Big Wheel.

I rode the dragon 3 times the next day in the rain; twice with my 23 year-old son Aaron on the back.  He and I were both frightened of this.  We discussed it at great length over breakfast.  In the end, we knew we may never get this chance again, so we decided to go for it.  I know how frightened he was and I’m very proud of him for facing his dragon (fear).

As I lay in bed that night reflecting on the experience of riding the dragon, I came to realize that the real dragon isn’t that 11 mile stretch of road with 318 curves.  The real dragon is alive and well and living inside of me: FEAR.

There have been many events and challenges in my life that have awoken my sleeping dragon; my battle with alcoholism and 20+ years of sobriety, the 3 pack-a-day cigarette habit I gave up when I turned 40, and my legal battle against a billion dollar company that sought to destroy our school to eliminate us as its competitor, just to name a few.  I’ve faced many dragons in my lifetime; some I've managed to tame, others have tamed me.  I'm sure there are many more to come.

To really understand my dragon, how he came to be, and what I’ve done to try and tame him, we have to go back to the beginning.  Maybe you’ll recognize your own dragon in my story.

To be continued...