I was home for an hour or two. When my dad came home from work and said “Hurry up, we got to go.” I knew why he was in such a rush. That day was my uncle Mark’s birthday.  He passed away 8 years ago and in his memory we ride as many laps as old as he turns. Like this year was his 54th birthday so we rode 54 laps around something we call the oval track. 

So I went downstairs to get my riding gear. when I came up, my dad said,  “Ok I guess I will load the truck myself!”

 I said, “Hold on, I am coming.” 

When I got to the truck and put my gear in, my dad was about to put the rm 60 up but I said, “I will put the 60 up.”

 My dad said “knock yourself out.” So when I was Three fourths of the way up I dropped it. My dad was so mad I could see his veins pulsing in his neck . So instead of helping him load the other stuff I just helped him tie the 60 and the 250. Then we went inside to get drinks for when we get thirsty. 

After around forty-five minutes in the truck we arrived at my “farm”. We call it the farm but it”s not really a farm with animals and crops, it’s just 36 acres my family owns out in Jonesburg, MO.

 As we start to unload it is when my dad notices I left the gas on the 60.

 When he looked at me he went insane with anger so he yelled at and said “Kick it till it starts!”

 So after about twenty kicks my yelled “Get off!”

  So I get off and he tries to start it but it is not starting . So he checks the spark plug and grinds away some of the dirt. 

When he put it in he kicked it again and again and again till he said “ If it does not start you are going to have to ride the drz.” 

Then I had this weird feeling but then I realized I just have to go to the bathroom. As I walked back to my dad, he was getting the drz 125 from the shed.  When he came back with the drz, I started to worry because the drz has starting problems and what if it doesn’t have enough gas and my dad just doesn’t know it.

Then I thought to calm down and take deep breaths in and out. Then I was calm again then I looked at the 125 and I thought of all the good memories of my uncle Mark. Like when he won me a giant Gizmo. When I walked over and got on I could barely touch the ground.

 I strapped my helmet on and my dad told me, “It is the same shift as the 60.”

 I held in the clutch and shifted into first gear. I slowly let out the clutch and held the gas. When I felt it  start to move I let out the clutch a little faster.

 When it started to move I shifted hard into second gear then I shifted into third gear and after one lap my dad screamed “SHIFT!” Then I shifted into fourth gear then he walked to go ride his rm250. 

On about my fifth lap my dad passed me and from then on he would pass me about every four laps and he passed me about twelve times and when he was done I did another seventeen laps. 

When I came back to my dad said “Did you get in the zone where you don’t want to stop riding?”

 I said “Why is that?”

 He said, “You did about sixty-five laps!” I was shocked when I did fifteen more laps then I was supposed to do. I took off my helmet and my gloves and I made sure I turned off the gas on the 125. Then I changed out of my gear and put the drz in the shed.

 Then I helped my dad load the truck and on the way home my dad said: “ We are selling the 60.”

 I said “ Why?”

 He said "because you are too big for it.” I wasn’t too happy about it but I knew he was right and it's not like I could buy it from my dad to keep it around. Then on our way home we went, with more memories and feeling like we had honored my uncle.