Posted originally on my Facebook feed 07-20-21.
You stopped when you saw this in your feed if you grew up in the 70’s/80’s…we ALL had one of these somewhere behind a shed in a zillion parts and ALL of us would gather there after school to smoke butts and TRY to get this thing running….remember? Then Dean flipped it trying to pop-clutch start it one day and we dragged him off the hill to get stitches and come up with a mutual story of how this happened for his mom…oh, I do remember!
Let me take you on a quick ride down memory lane….We partied when we could all find each other around town, some at the old fisherman’s wharf, some at the beach sitting in cars, making out or toking. Someone always had a beer..I bet 3 guys sipped off of one beer quite often, sometimes it was the only one, but weed – we always had weed! And we always had a mini-bike or dirt bike somewhere in the crowd, sometimes even 3 or 4!
We could raise some hell on those. Ride from the point up through the power lines to the north side of town – right past the ice cream store which was always a place to round up a few friends to hang out with doing whatever we could find to do – frisbee at one of the old war forts which were obviously parks now was a mad favorite of the whole gang. As long as we could all find one another we’d hang out doing just about anything; generally a lot of nothing in our tiny seaside town in Maine.
We were the kids who drank from the hose and rode those mini-bikes/death machines through the old lady who was slightly touched’s field and listen to her screech at us and threaten us with buckshot to our asses! Wild and free and not really criminals, just a bunch of bored small-town kids trying to fill summer days with fun and mischief.We had these little biker wannabes and parent’s nightmare machines…and we loved them, all the pieces!