Renee Oelrich

In my youth, somewhere around junior high, I came across the high school neighbor holding tools and carrying a jug of gasoline. I asked him what he was up to with all of that. He claimed to have run out of gas with his state-of-the-art Go-Kart and was headed down to fill it up and get it going again. It stalled below the hill in a grassy area that was more of a field behind all the houses. We lived in a rural area, and nothing was behind any of the houses but fields, grassy areas, some forest and tree areas and of course the pond that was about a half mile away from the river. I asked if he needed some help and followed along past the pond to the Go-Kart after he handed me some tools to carry. This Go-Kart had a blue painted metal frame chassis that was about 5 feet long and 3 feet wide. It had big thick black tires, a gas pedal on the right and a brake pedal on the left, a steering wheel up the middle about 2.5 feet long and a big cushion seat with a 4-foot back rest and safety bars extending over the motor in the back to the end of the frame. There was a safety belt for the seat, much like a harness style. It was pretty cool back then, since none of us were drivers yet and the only other recreational fun was a couple of dirt bikes and some ten speeds. We get to the Go-Kart, and he tells me to go ahead and sit in the seat, while he filled the tank. He tried pulling the motor a few times, but nothing happened. He started spraying something and tinkering with the motor, then said to go ahead and push the gas pedal to the floor and hold it there. The damn thing started instantly flying forward straight to the pond. I was forced into the backrest with my arms locked on the steering wheel and my feet pushing on both pedals. I couldn’t move! I was staring at the big area of water in front of me and all I could muster myself to do was turn the steering wheel to the right. That damn rocket bounced over grass clumps and skidded to the right. I was able to move my foot off the gas during the turn as I held myself on the seat with the steering wheel. The motor died and the Go-Kart rolled to a stop. I stood up and looked for the neighbor. He was running toward me, laughing his ass off. He asked if I was okay and I think I found my voice enough to answer something like “sure.” He said “okay, let’s just push it back to the house.” I told him that would be a better idea. I never went on the damn rocket ever again!