It 's late August and school is about to start, everyone 's thinking of the great story 's their going to tell their friends when they get back. I had the perfect story to tell, my dad had just bought a motorcycle for my brother and me. The story, started off with a garage sale. In my family we all get together to help the Grandparents of the family have a garage sale. We were all together at the end of the day, except my dad, and Aunt and Uncle, who were in the Cities. They were coming back to day, much to our excitement. The sun was setting behind the big maple tree in the front yard, and a dark truck, with its headlights shining through the darkness was coming our way. “Dads back!” my brother yelled in excitement, catching everyone 's attention. We ran out to go meet the truck as it came to a stop. Our dad got out and told us he has a surprise for us. We followed him back around to the back of the truck. Dad pulled the tail gate down, and I looked on in surprise. “It’s a motorcycle!” Mom 's not going to be happy. Those were the first thoughts that came to mind as the miniature motorcycle was being lifted out of the truck. It looked just like the motorcycles I 'd seen around town but smaller, the perfect size for kids. It was cherry red and about 3 feet long and 2 feet high, it looked so small but awesome none the less. We didn 't get to drive the motorcycle that day because it needed to be tuned and my dad wanted to make sure it safe for us to drive. After we
In 2011 on a very cold December night, my dad told me something that I will never forget. My siblings and I were all sitting in my fathers very out dated apartment, eating hamburger helper and watching a movie on his small 32 inch t.v.
The stigma that surrounds riding a motorcycle can often times cause people to look upon it negatively. Often times, when people see motorcycles, they believe that they are dangerous. There are risks associated with motorcycles, however, they are still safe when driven correctly.
When i got to the truck they were already unloading the bike. A big white SUV came up the driveway, It was my grandma Janet and grandpa Roger. They were excited to be able to see me drive my first dirt bike. My first dirt bike was a Honda CRF 70.
Even at the young age of seven, I still vividly remember this day because it is arguably a life changing event. I was at my best friend’s house. He and I had spent the day together playing outside having fun, and adding an additional
It was a peaceful, quiet Friday evening, when I was sitting on my couch peacefully and doing homework and watching TV. It was almost near the time where everyone in my family would go into their rooms, and call it a day. I, on the other hand, was planning to stay up till pretty late to finish some homework. As soon as my dad was going to bed, his phone rang - a phone call from his good friend.
After a long two hour drive our car would pull up in Ware, Massachusetts. We would pull down the street as Dad would gently turn the wheel in order to avoid the potholes which lined the avenue. Then I would see it. The Harzy house. The house of the older couple, my third set of grandparents. We would drive past it and into the driveway next door. When I saw the green truck sitting in the open garage, I knew Johnny was home.
As we left wal-mart dad said ¨ready to go home¨ we all were tired of being stuck at home. We all talked about how we wanted to get out of the house and on the way home we decided to go to Hershey Pennsylvania .When we got home mom did very little planning we found out what we had to know and got in the car and took off for Hershey Pennsylvania. The car ride took forever it was so boring and no one wanted to sit still. When we got to our hotel the room was not ready yet so we decided to go to Hershey.
As a result of many years of growing up around fast cars and motorcycles, I became very interested in learning how to ride a motorcycle. Of course, once I was old enough to learn to ride my parents feared the idea of their oldest child being on a bike because of the risk of being hurt or even at the worst case of death. But, that never changed my mind on getting a motorcycle. So once I saved for several years. The day had finally come; I was so excited I could not wait to purchase a motorcycle. So my husband and I went to go look at a gorgeous 2007 GSXR 600; in which I purchased. After, about a year of riding the bike my husband introduced the idea of being a part of a motorcycle club. I
I am currently 17 years old, about to be 18, and I have been around both motorcycles and dirt bikes for nearly my entire life. Every experience I have ever had with motorcycles and dirt bikes has been a completely safe experience; at least, for those experiences that I can remember. I remember my mother telling me that when I was younger, probably around 3-4, my stepfather wanted to take me for a ride on his dirt bike. My mother was completely opposed to me being on such a "dangerous" thing, as many other people also believe. However, my stepdad convinced my mother to let him take me for a ride and it turned out I loved it! My parents say I came back laughing and smiling from the ride. Most people who believe motorcycles (and similar vehicles)
There was only one problem. There was a part on the motorcycle where the paint was
As soon as their mom left after saying her goodbyes; giving her hugs and kisses, I knew that summer had officially begun, and the nerves slowly began to settle knowing that I was left in charge of an adorable two month old, a sassy two year old, and a helpful four year old for this hectic summer. Slam, as the door closes. Summers here.
The day started out how all my days had been that summer I was arguing with my Dad. Our argument was about staying in Atoka or going back to Tishomingo when school started. My Dad wanted to stay in Atoka while my younger brother and I wanted to come back to Tish. I told my Dad that all my friends in Atoka had either dropped out of school or skipped half the time. He told me that he did not care what they did or what I did for that matter, we were going to stay in Atoka. I decided that I would show him what happens when parents let their kids do whatever they want in Atoka.
Hey, all of you I was thinking of writing you an email so that's what I'm going to do. Monday all I got down on paper was … Now, as many of you may know. I will not be able to continue the last week of July 2017 LITs due to unforeseen circumstances. I was looking forward to spending the rest of the time with you guys but I know now that will not be the case unless you come to August LITs… Just three sentences and I think when I read it over today, I used an urban American accent but okay. I really have no idea what to say or do right now. You felt like a family away from home although it was short lived for the most part I could recall every good moment. I'm pretty disappointed that I didn't see the Fireflies garage band video. I just
The year was 2006 it was late summer I was four with light hazel hair and amber eyes that when you looked into them you could already see I had amazement for the world and curiosity that could kill a cat. Today was a boring day I thought to myself as I poked a ant hill that was as gigantic as my father's foot and to me he had big feet. I was outside the sky was clear, and as blue as the sea, and the sun was a glowing golden yellow as it hung high and proud in the bright blue sea known as the sky. As I look around I spot my father pull his beaten down white 2004 van in the dirt driveway full of pebbles. I felt bad for him every day he came home absolutely tired and exhausted from working his dead end job. He opened his van and gets out he was a tall man. He had a light tan with sapphire eyes that looked just like the clear sky on that summer day with his cinnamon brown short hair, and button nose he welcomes me with a smile. Every Time you saw that delightful smile spread across his face you knew that he had a gift. As he smiled he opened up his arms. I dashed like a snake was chasing after me and I hopped right into his arms like a cat jumping from the ground to the highest place on the bookshelf.