I bought a motorcycle today. A new car, if you will. As in, "Nicole, should we take my car, or yours?"
Really it's just a bicycle with a 2-stroke gas/mixed with oil engine attached to it. BiciMoto. Pronounced "Bee See Moto". You have to hold in the clutch, pedal like a madperson, then let out the clutch a little bit and give 'er the gas. Then vinn ninn ninn ninnnnnn you're on your way. Wohmmmm chicka wohnmmmm. Mom, type me dad's response in the comments please. I'm dying to hear what he has to say about this bad decision.
|It's a Deal! |
|This isn't going to be funny anymore when I really do die on this thing.|
Notice the welded re-bar surf board holder. Well, I don't have a surf board. Some ideas I had about what to put there instead:
1) pieces of wood for fires on the beach
2) a painting
3) donut ring-toss game
4) French baguettes
I rode it home a thousand miles from Tamarindo to our apartment in Huacas, and it was pretty terrifying. The thing goes 40 miles per hour. I rode it smack dab in the middle of the lane. If you wanna pass me, cars, you're gonna have to like wait and then pass. I ain't gonna move over and have you run me down...not on this death trap. I swear the wind almost knocked me out a couple of times. I stopped at two shops on the way to buy a helmet but the best they could conjure up was a curved piece of styrofoam that straps under the chin. No thanks, I'll hold out for something a little more
What a blast!