Dirty dog?

I feel like a dirty, dastardly, dog, but I'd do it again. Out of concern, not to suck the fun out of someone's afternoon activity.
Izzy and I, went for a walk to the park a short while ago. This park is known for it's fun hills - in the summer you'll find young folk with pieces of cardboard or ice sliding down the dry grassy hillsides and if there's snow in the winter it's a hot spot for sledding. Today, I noticed 3 teens up at the top of the steepest hill; one holding a bmx bike and the other two setting up what looked like a modified step ladder. And then I spotted the skinny bike tracks coming down through the muddy grass, ending abruptly where the briars hide the drop-off to a sometimes busy street. "Oh for Pete's sake, Izzy! They're making a ramp to launch themselves into the air on their bikes!"
I called the police from my cell, hoping they'd arrive before someone hurt themselves. As Iz and I continued our walk it began to rain. So, I don't know if that's why the dare devils were gone when we swung back by or if a policeman happened to be close to our neighborhood and walked over to have a chat.
Just call me a fun sucker . . .