The Tractor Tires

I went to a Catholic school 20 miles from my house.  Most of my friends  went to the public elementary school and it wasn't often that I had oportunity to visit their playground.    But the first season I played tackle football in the town pee-wee league, our team practiced on the public elementary school fields.  The tractor tires would always be in different spots.  Sometimes standing upright.  Sometimes laying on their sides.  I was always hopeful that my carpool would be late picking me up so I could play, even if just for a short while, on the tractor tires.  It took two people to stand the tires upright.  If you stood inside the tire with your arms stretched out, you became the spokes of a wheel rolling across the field.  A gang of boys pushing you along with speed.  Your ride was over either when the tire tipped over on its side or you fell, your arms could no longer hold you in position.  When the tire fell over we'd swarm around it, the rider would emerge from the center and we work together to righten and ready the tire for the next rider.   One by one, station wagons with wood grained sides would hasten off members of our group until, finally,  only a few  remained.  That's when we would get  a chance to play my favorite game of riding on top of the tire.  Pushing the tire forward with all of your weight, one person could get it on its way.   Then grabbing hold of the treads, the tractor tire would hoist you high above the ground.  If you stood quickly, you could ride the tire like a lumberjack riding a log in the water.  Faster and faster the tire would roll, carrying you across the field, until finally there was no choice but to jump or else  chance being swallowed up by the tire and field ahead.  A hard landing and a roll, your body would come to rest and the tractor tire game would end...the tire wobbling onto its side.  

I rode a large wooden telephone cable spool two years ago with my kids, but time was short  and we couldn't ride for long.