Note: I wrote this piece in May, 1973, at fourteen-years-old, for an eighth grade English class assignment at Middlesex Junior High School, Darien.  The piece describes my first ride on a motorcycle. My sister, Donna, sixteen-years old at the time, dated a twenty-two year-old guy she met at Kelsey T.V., a mom-and-pop shop in Noroton Heights, where she worked in the office after school, answering phones and filing paperwork.

Our group of friends met at Weed Beach most Friday nights.  Donna’s boyfriend was a flirt and gave all of the girls motorcycle rides in the beach’s parking lot.  I ignored his flirtations and just wanted the ride.

My teacher’s comments follow at the end.  I’m determining how I can use this piece today, with the voice of a young girl,  to show how I found joy in the little things in life, especially the ones that don’t cost anything.  I especially like the innocence of youth in a moment of time.

LOVIN’ THE RIDE

One of the things that I LOVE is riding on a motorcycle.

We go to the beach, where, if you walk along the shore, your bare feet sink down into the wet, soft, tan sand.  Of course, the gentle waves are lapping alongside your feet, pushing tiny shells toward you.  Sometimes, if you step on the shells, they break.  Then you can hear a crinkly, crunchy noise that goes along with the waves breaking against the mountain of rocks.  The ocean is a smell of salt, not the kind you use on steak, but much more fresh-and-clean smelling.

Above you, the sky is the color of coal, with shiny sparkling diamonds sprinkled here and there.  In the distance a small object is coming toward you.  Lights blinking, you notice that it is a plane.  It makes a swooping turn, and it is out of your sight.

Your feet have brought you to a pavement that is uneven and rough on your tender toes.  But, you still hobble over to a blue park bench and plop down.  You dig your ratty old sneakers and a sandy beach towel out of a bag.  The towel wipes your feet, but it puts more sand on them.  Disgustedly, you shove your sneakers on.

The motorcycle is humming, and the driver is waiting, a loose grip on the handles.  You plunk a helmet on, and a soft, cushiony sound is heard.  A tiny smile appears on your face as you tighten the strap because there is a tingly excitement inside.  Feet on the back pedals, you cling to the driver as if you were one.  You’re off!

The feel of the wind!  Just imagine a trillion air conditioners on super, super high, with you standing right in front of them.  That is how you feel with wind on all four sides of you.

The tires race along in the parking lot.  But you don’t have to worry about cars.  The dozen or so cars take up a small corner of the cement block.

The monster that you are sitting on buzzes along.  Once in a while, the driver brooms the engine up.  Your eyes blur as you try to see the people standing around on a green patch.  The driver leans to the right, swerving amongst cars and people.  Slowly you climb up a hill.  People shout as if they were cheering you on.

But, finally, all good things must end.  You watch the tires slowly turning and then rest at a stop.  A sigh of sadness comes over you as you realize you must get off.  But friends crowd around you asking whether you liked it or not.  Were you scared?

You glance at the driver, who is still sitting on his bike.  He smiles at you and then you know that he and you are the only ones who know the feeling.

You can’t tell your friends how it feels; they have to experience it.  You see another person on your seat, looking excited and even nervous.  But you turn to your friends, telling them about the ride.  That person in your seat will soon find out.  He’ll experience the best ride in the world.

My teacher’s comments:  This is a great job.  For the most part you’ve used good action verbs, as well as other good sensory words.  Concentrate on strong, action verbs, instead of forms of dull to be and to have.  Use the active voice rather than the passive.  Make your subjects do, not merely be or have.  Your skill in expressing yourself is a great asset.  Always do all you can to make the most of it.