Got a '77 XR75 when I was 11. Dad took me to his buddies out in the stix who's son had the same bike. He yanked it off the truck, started it up for me, handed it over, and said "have at it boy". Off I went with this other kid I'd never met, when he starts pulling away and leaves my sight while I'm wringing the grip off of that throttle. WTF? I go back to find my Dad and his buddy drinking beer on the back porch, I roll up and throw the bike on the ground screaming how it's a piece of junk and the other bike is smoking mine out there. Dad burps, looks at me stupid and says " well, are ya shifting right?". Dumbfounded, I retort..."uh, shifting?". After a brief lesson, I was hooked from that moment on.