Here in the Dominican Republic I feel free. There aren't as many rules like in the United States. Here my dad could teach me how to ride a motorcycle with out getting in deep trouble. He had a black motorcycle(like the one in the pic). I always studied everything he did while driving. I saw that there were six shifts in total. Neutral and five more. I thought that they just made u faster but no.
Shift one has all the power. It is the strongest. The other shifts are so the motorcycle runs smoothly on the road. I just wish I knew that before trying it out. I was just awkwardly shifting the gears around like a maniac. After a long talk explaining how the motorcycle works I was ready to go and try again. But my dad just had to remind me of that accident when I was riding a motorcycle for the first time.
We were in some part of New Jersey. My dad was playing baseball with his team. After 2 long hours of a nail biting game we won. Time to celebrate. One of my dad's friends had a son with a small motorcycle. My father saw that it was very simple to use so he asked his friend if I could use it. He said yes. I started jumping in joy. When I got on my dad got on to so he could make sure I was safe. He then said "go nice and easy". I said ok and then did the complete opposite and went full throttle. I was zooming around the entire ball park. In less then a second I went so fast I was doing a wheelie. But I couldn't control it so we fell backwards and the motorcycle did a flip. We were totally ok and without saying a word we looked each other in the eye and started laughing a lot. (I think the bike was totaled...not sure.)
After that funny moment of the past I got ready to ride. I was anxious to get on the street already and just ride until we ran out of gas. My dad got on the back and I started the engine. Just like the day at the ball game he said "to go nice and steady". Yeah right I'm going to drive until I'm tired. So on first gear I pulled up into the street. After that I was just lost in the moment with the tropical breeze blowing in my face. After a while a came back to the real world and realized that I had gone farther than both of us ever planned on going. After that one ride I was addicted to riding this motorcycle. I just loved it. But one day I felt like I would never ride that motorcycle again.
I was running late to baseball practice that fateful morning. I didn't know what to do so I told my dad if I could skip practice today. He said no. I was like "how the hell am I supposed to get their in time". He didn't say a word but through the motorcycles keys at me. I didn't even wait for my mom to respond I just caught the keys jumped on the motorcycle and left. I got to practice on time that day and actually had fun showing off the bike. On my way home I must of had the worst luck ever! In the middle of the road the motorcycle turned off. I was super nervous. I didn't know what happened and I was all alone in the middle of the road with a motorcycle that you could just steal from me. So I did what first came to mind. I pushed the motorcycle home. The trip had to be what 3 miles but because I was already tired due to practice it felt like a marathon I had to complete while pushing a wheel barrel full of bricks. One more memory to look back to...nice!