There was a guy down by where dad worked that kept a bag of something on the handles bars of his 3-Wheeler.
Don't remember exactly what it was.
I never knew why until 1 day the guys son, a friend of mine, asked me if I wanted to ride it. I'd been watching him ride and it sho nuff looked fun. I said YES PLEASE. The bag was missing and I didn't think anything of it. I Straddled that machine, hit the thumb throttle and ZOOM front wheel pops up in the air. I grab on for dear life and Boom, rear-ended his Dad's pickup. Landed on my butt in the dirt, machine is rolling over on me, I'm panicking and still have the throttle wide open. Tire catches traction on something, mahine spins, bounces and takes off on its side. About that time the handle bars are wrenched out of my hand and the motor comes back to Idle. His Dad come running up, rights the 3-wheeler, checks on his truck, hauls me up off the ground and tells me I need to be heading on home. I said yes sir and walked home @ 4 or 5 blocks. I walk in the door and Mom's on the phone. She says "OH Don't worry. I'll take care of it!" She turns and looks at me, walks to Spoon Drawer and grabs her "Good" wooden spoon. I survived to live another. The "Good" wooden spoon didn't, neither did the next 2.
I can proudly say that to this day, 40+, years later I've never ridden another 3-wheeler.
The bag on the front end kept it on the ground.
Don't remember exactly what it was.
I never knew why until 1 day the guys son, a friend of mine, asked me if I wanted to ride it. I'd been watching him ride and it sho nuff looked fun. I said YES PLEASE. The bag was missing and I didn't think anything of it. I Straddled that machine, hit the thumb throttle and ZOOM front wheel pops up in the air. I grab on for dear life and Boom, rear-ended his Dad's pickup. Landed on my butt in the dirt, machine is rolling over on me, I'm panicking and still have the throttle wide open. Tire catches traction on something, mahine spins, bounces and takes off on its side. About that time the handle bars are wrenched out of my hand and the motor comes back to Idle. His Dad come running up, rights the 3-wheeler, checks on his truck, hauls me up off the ground and tells me I need to be heading on home. I said yes sir and walked home @ 4 or 5 blocks. I walk in the door and Mom's on the phone. She says "OH Don't worry. I'll take care of it!" She turns and looks at me, walks to Spoon Drawer and grabs her "Good" wooden spoon. I survived to live another. The "Good" wooden spoon didn't, neither did the next 2.
I can proudly say that to this day, 40+, years later I've never ridden another 3-wheeler.
The bag on the front end kept it on the ground.
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