Moped Mishap

One day last week, I was driving down our road on my way to work when I passed two ladies that I usually see walking with one of my neighbors every morning. I've seen them almost every morning for the past several months and we always wave at each other in passing.

This particular morning, the two ladies were sitting at the bottom of my neighbor's driveway on a shiny new moped. They waved as I passed by and as I continued down the road, I watched in my rearview mirror as they manuevered their way shakily onto the road and then wobbily drove themselves right into the nearest ditch. I stopped and watched to be sure both of them got up safely and didn't appear to be hurt.

As I drove on to work, the moped incident got me to thinking about my own comical near-death experience on a moped more than 25 years past. I was still in high school at the time, and one weekend a girlfriend of mine and I were out in the country visiting my now-husband, who's Dad had just purchased a brand new bright and shiny red moped.

While I can't remember doing so, I must have begged and pleaded for a driving lesson and knowing how my husband has always had a weakness to grant my every wish (well, maybe not EVERY wish, but most of them anyway), I'm sure he complied. I remember the brake and the gas levers were situated on the handlebars and as long as you gave it sufficient gas it was pretty easy to balance and stay upright. I practiced in the gravel drive until I felt confident enough to venture out onto a real road.

My friend bravely hopped on back and off we went, driving the winding back roads. Keep in mind, I didn't even have a license to drive a car, I had only had maybe a 15 minute driving lesson, and neither of us were wearing helmets. Not to mention I've always been the klutsiest accident-prone person on the face of the earth. Pretty smart, huh?

Back and forth along the roads we zipped and zoomed. The more trips we took, the braver I got and the faster I'd dare to go. We were so cool with the wind blowing our hair while speeding around on this zippy little machine. As we came around a sharp curve, I realized I was going just a little too fast and went to pull back on the brake to slow us down a bit. Somehow I pulled on the gas instead of the brake however, and inevitably down we went, sliding for what seemed like forever across pavement and ending up in a field.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. I remember rolling and rolling and rolling and I went from seeing asphalt to sky, back to asphalt, to sky again, to dirt and tall grass, to sky, to mud and then to sky again and ultimately stopped right in the middle of a big mud hole at the side of the road. I laid there wondering if I was still alive, or if anything might be broken and I listened for any sign of my girlfriend and where she might have ended up. Luckily I heard her rustling in the grass not too far from me and I rolled over to see her covered in mud, but thankfully all in one piece.

We both started laughing hysterically, probably in shock and relieved to be alive. Amazingly neither of us had any broken bones and barely a scratch, but you sure couldn't say the same for the shiny new moped that laid several yards away. We limped back to the moped to survey the damage. One of the handlebars was bent, a mirror was broken off one side and there were several scratches and dents. Luckily it started back up though, so we both reluctantly climbed back on and slowly drove back to face the music.

I'm sure my husband's stomach dropped down into his shoes when he saw us both drive into the yard covered in mud, but that didn't begin to compare to the reaction of seeing that brand new moped practically ruined. His Dad was going to kill us all!

Later that evening, after I'd cleaned myself up and my husband had done his best to clean up the damaged moped, his Dad came home. I figured since I was the one at fault, I'd be the one to break the news of the wreck, and then maybe my husband wouldn't get in too much trouble. As soon as he got in the house, I meekly approached him, shaking in my shoes. I remember bursting into tears as I informed him I had wrecked his new toy. I think we all held our breath as we waited to see what he'd do or say. He glanced over to my husband and then back to me and started laughing. This was so unexpected that we all started laughing.

Then he squeezed my shoulder reassuringly and as he walked past my husband, he said to him "I don't know what you're laughing about. You're going to pay the repair bill!" Darn, I knew it wouldn't be that easy. . .