It tastes GOOD!!!

When I was fourteen, I got my learners permit to drive.  You could also drive a moped with that permit...  So in the following spring, I bought a yellow moped off my older sister who had just turned 16 and had just bought a car.  She gave me a pretty good deal, I thought, and even threw in the helmet which was a little too small for me, but I didn't care.

That spring and summer were the best ever!!!  I had SUCH independence!  I had a job cleaning houses and then working in a nursing home kitchen to support my biker habit.  Each tank of gas cost less than a dollar...

One thing I noticed was a little switch under the seat, that if you were running low on gas, you could kick it into the reserve tank.  And when you did that, the moped was suddenly able to go about 5 miles per hour faster!  Then when it started sputtering, you just leaned down and flipped it back to the regular tank.  Voila!  and in a little bit switch it back to reserve...

I drove my moped to work, school, drivers ed that summer.  It was a great mode of transportation!  Living in a city where everything was at least a 10 minute drive, it really came in handy!

Mine was actually all yellow.  And my helmet was blue.

I loved the feel of the wind in my face!  Tried not to drive at night because of bugs in my face.  And I was afraid of the dark anyway...  Stopping at a stop sign would spook me. 

Good thing I didn't watch zombie tv shows then!

My dad's only real rule with the moped was that I always wear long pants and tennis shoes along with the helmet when driving.  We lived on a gravel road... So one day, I wanted to go tooling around up to a state park up the road a couple miles.  I came around a corner, hit a pile of gravel and wiped out.

Wouldn't you just know it...  this was the one day I disobeyed my dad...  (Well... that I'll admit to!)  I had worn shorts and Dr. Scholl sandals. You know!  The wooden ones with a leather strap over the top of your foot!  I did wear the helmet tho!

My knee was cut and roughed up pretty bad.  I drove the moped home *slowly*, blood dripping down into my toes of the sandals.  I limped into the lower level of the house where my bedroom and bathroom was, undetected.  Got all cleaned up and put on long pants and shoes to hide the damage then went upstairs to supper, trying to walk as normally as possible.  I pulled it off!  Told them a year later.

Then the summer when I turned 16, I drove it up that same park again.  I lived in very hilly western Iowa and the parks maze of roads was up and down and curvy.  awesome!  If I had been into skate boards, I'm sure I would have broken many bones on those roads!

As I puttered up one of the roads, my chariot suddenly sputtered and died.  I had to push it up the rest of the hill, out of the park and down the gravel road to home.  One guy in a convertible did stop and ask if I needed a ride somewhere.  But there was no way my moped would fit in the back seat and I really didn't think my parents would think that was ok...  It was the early 80s!  Hitchin' A Ride had only been on the radio a few short years before!

Dad took a look at it when he had some time and said that I'd run it out of oil.  The pistons had ceased.;.. whatever THAT meant!  So I puttered with it.

That next week, my sister-in-law at the time's two brothers from Indiana were in town visiting!  They were cute.  Roughly my age.  I mentioned my dilemma and they offered to take a look at it for me!  COOL!  Got my friends jealous... ;)

Those two boys tore the moped apart!  Parts everywhere.  It really looked like they knew what they were doing!  I took them lemonade and hung out around the garage, trying my best to look like a very thankful damsel in distress... and talking with them.

A few days passed.  Suddenly the day came when they didn't stop by again.  I called my brother to find out where they were.  Apparently they had left to go home and didn't mention it to me...

My dad was pretty furious that they'd left all the parts sitting around.

Apparently they had no clue what they were doing either...  Aside from, of course, getting lemonade and fun chatter with a girl!

So anyway... the moped was no more.  I don't remember where it ended up but I never drove it again.  Luckily I was 16 by this time, so I bought a cheap car from someone at church.  Oh!  I wrote a story about that once upon a time too.

What was your first *taste* of freedom?!