My first bike was a 1977 Yamaha DT 100 enduro. My dad bought it for me when I was 11. He spent $180 on the bike and $20ish on parts it needed. Wow, did I love that bike! My friends who had newer and nicer ones poked a little fun (nicknamed it the duck for its yellow color and bill, like fender - see photo), but I didn't care.
One fine summer day, while riding home from my parents' business, I decided that it was definitely time to show off what this bike could do! I had one of my buddies on the back and I met another friend on the way, who was on his own bike. I went through all the gears and held the throttle wide open for the entire 3 mile trip home (please note that I grew up in the country and half this trip was on a dirt road). The bike topped out at around 65 mph (so the speedo said), which is fast for a kid of 13.
My friend and I pulled in to my yard, where I locked up the back brake and skidded to a stop, leaving a cool little tire strip (awesome for a 13 year old). I hopped off of the bike, ready to brag about how fast I went and then I looked down the road. Shit! My mom was pulling into the yard! In all of my glory, I never bothered to check behind me. She had been close enough for long enough to know that I was going way too fast.
So, after a long reprimand and getting my riding privileges revoked, I learned my lesson. Well, at least I learned that you should check if your mom's around before you show off!
“To be old and wise, you must first have to be young and stupid.” – Unknown
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