How was your first time?

[IndependenceDave]

The first time I rode was on a dirt bike when I was about 10. It was a '87 Kawasaki KDX 80 that my Dad bought for 50 bucks from his friend at work. I remember how proud I was of that bike and I had a grin from ear to ear when we went to pick it up. Dad had told me that it would need some work before it could be ridden he didn't know how much but said that it didn't run and could need to be completely rebuilt. As soon as we got it home my father tried to fire it up to no avail. He pulled out the sparkplug and it was covered in black oil. We went to the local parts store, got a new plug and headed back home. After the new plug was installed Dad gave it a couple of kicks and it fired right up. His friend had the wrong mixture and fouled out the plug. We drained the gas and filled it up with the proper mixture and that Green Beast was ready for its new owner.

I remember sitting in the driveway only half listening to my Father while he explained how to shift, stop and all of the other things that as a 10 year old I had deemed unnecessary. And after a very long explanation dad asked if I was ready to ride. And was I ever.
With my whole family watching I forced my weight on to the kick starter and fired that bad boy up. I pulled in on the clutch and put it in first. Dad told me to slowly give it some gas and ease out the clutch.
I am not quite sure what happened in the next second or two but I was sure that I had made a huge mistake. I first realized things had gone terribly wrong when my front wheel was no longer in contact with the earth, somehow I managed to avoid Mom's car in the driveway and made it halfway up the street on one wheel before the front end came back down.
The trip back to the house although only about 150 yards seemed like it would never end. All of my hopes and dreams of being some awesome biker like my Dad faded in those few brief seconds. I got the bike back into the driveway and shut it off.
I think my Mom was more scared than I was, she came running over and asked if I was ok. After assuring her I was she calmed down. My father was laughing along with my sister and asked if I was going to listen to him next time.
I took me a few hours before getting on the bike again and riding it in the backyard. I don't think I shifted out of 1st for almost a week from fear of doing another wheelie. Now every time before I go on a ride that moment flashes through my head for a brief second.