Perimeter Patrol

The tall grass blades were looming like an impenetrable jungle, thick enough to stall my axles! Turning back to the bench? Never in my playbook! I scanned the ground level and found the flaw: a fallen cedar shingle was wedged flush against a smooth river stone, creating an elevated three-inch overpass directly across the turf roots. The probability of rolling clear without dragging grass seeds stood at ninety-four percent. I floored my tires, charged the sloped wood, and skittered straight across the stone crest. The dice in my spoiler clattered with a sharp click as I landed firmly on the flat dirt patch on the other side. Turf bypassed, lane secured!