“First Time on a Dirt Bike” Stories

I was about 12. My friends and I used to hang out at Freestate Cycle in Bladensburg, MD, a Honda/Triumph dealer. The owner didn’t mind us kids coming around and sitting on the bikes, and one day close to closing, he fired up two used MiniTrails and let us ride around the parking lot. It took exactly one lap until it turned into a race and I was in second place. Trying to “go fast” I ended up busting a hole in the wooden fence and tweaking the bars. 
A couple of years later, my parents bought me an XR75 from that shop. 

Luckily, mine ended up in the second category.  A friend got a '69 Mini-Trail in Cand Apple Red.  He was showing it to us, and we were all dazzled. When he offered to let us ride it, I was hesitant -- I had no idea how to ride a "motorcycle."  But it was irresistible, and after two laps up and down the parking lot, I was hooked.  It took me about a year to cajole my parents into letting me get my own Z50, and that was the start of a life-long passion.

I fell and got hurt, and have been hooked ever since. Specifically, I rode a friend's Z50 into a brick wall.

I like this thread, It gave me an idea for a similar thread.  For me, I remember seeing my cousins 87 yz 125 sitting in his parents basement every year at Easter.  I would just look at it as a young kid. Then the old man threw me on the back and rode around the back yard and field. Was instantly hooked by the site, sounds, and smells of it all.  I didn't start riding until i was 16. But i went to my cousin and bought that bike for $300.  Rode the piss out of it, and was hooked.  Caught on decently quick

Very similar story. Got my Z50 for my birthday, rode it straight into our house. Dusted myself off and loved every minute afterwards.

I was 8 years old in 1978. The bike was a 76 XR75.

We were in the back yard. My dad got the bike started and I plopped on it. I let the clutch out...gave it a LOT of throttle...was headed straight for moms Dodge Monaco....at the last moment i made a hard left right into a big bushy juniper tree.

After a a good cry I spent the rest of the day puttering around the yard and driveway.

HOOKED!  

My dad had an 88 KX 250 that he would put me on the tank and ride me around back in the hills behind our house. The first time on my own, I was 4 and my dad took me to a grass field next to my elementary school. Basically he just put me on the bike and I cruised around, no crashing and no exciting stories. 

First time on a bike, I was about 28. 

I was sitting at home on a weekend (wife was out of town), and supercross came on the tv. I said to myself, "That looks sooo fun!!" and immediately went down to the local bike shop and bought a YZ125 right out of the showroom floor along with all the gear (boots, helmet, etc). Wife had no idea.

Next morning, took off to a semi local riding area by myself and proceeded to eat shit after 10 minutes and separate my shoulder really bad. Came to, and picked up the bike and rode back to my truck. Some guy who was on a hike with his wife helped me load the bike, and said "You should go to the hospital", which I did. 

Fast forward when the doctor at the ER came in the room, it was the guy who helped me load up!! I couldn't believe it!

Third degree separation, and I have been hooked ever since. 

Wife was actually cool (although very surprised) about the whole thing and let me keep the bike

I was in 3rd grade and had already been riding on the back of my dad's old DT175, but never rode (controlled) a bike of my own. My friend had an ATC70, which I rode in a straight line right over one of his mom's saplings in the back yard. The thing didn't turn!! 
A few years later, my dad bought me a used XR75 and I adapted much better. It took me weeks before my first crash on that one. I didn't even tell my dad I crashed because I didn't want him to take the bike away from me. 

On my 10th birthday I got a used Honda SL-70 from my parents. I didn't know how to use a clutch and stalled it a lot at first but was immediately hooked on dirt bikes for life. 

I was 7 years old in the sugar cane fields of Maui and my cousin took me for a ride and the rest is history. Hooked for life!

I was 6. My step dad rode and wanted to get me into it. He borrowed a buddies z50 and showed me the brakes and how to shift (three whole gears). Then he stood out on a spot next to our farm track and pointed up or down to tell me when to shift, the rest was history. Didn’t crash that day, fortunately. Crashed plenty more from there on out.

My first time was on a Honda 50 Mini Trail. I was 5 or 6 and had no concept of how a motorcycle worked. Dad and his friends called me out to ride it in the yard and (according to my mom) poorly explained how a throttle worked. Long story short, I pinned it riding in a circle screaming until my future mechanic tackled me off the bike. I started crying and ran inside to watch a Disney movie. Dad said "Sold!" and bought it for me. I didn't touch the thing for like a month and another month until I felt comfortable shifting to 2nd gear. Not the best start, but loved it ever since.

I was 5 years old, dad came home with a brand new Italjet 50. My brother cranked it up and put me on it. I ate shit fabulously, I pinned it wide open, hit the ditch in the front yard, did a front flip across the road into the other ditch. My brother thought I was dead. I got back on it and learned the throttle that day. Soon after we started racing.

Probably riding on the tank of an old trail 70 when I was 3 with my uncle riding it...he used to let me twist the throttle. Hooked instantly. Then rode a friends z50 and another's kx60...but my favorite story is the first time I rode a motorcycle that was mine.

Early 2000s...going to buy a 1980 cr80 from my brother's friend for $400. I was 8 or 9..had finally saved enough money for my own bike (parents let me bmx and ride others stuff but never pulled the trigger on one for me, I think they wanted to see if I actually would ride it etc). Anyways, started that old CR up..rode it around, hit powerband in first gear for the first time in my life, launched it off this little jump in a rock pit and wadded it into some trees. Got up, handed him 400$ and loaded it up. Raced that 1980 CR80 in the 80cc class against 1999-2001 80s/85s until i finally blew it up. Few months later at Christmas of 2002, my dad gave me a 2002 yz85 as my Christmas present - I cried. Raced that 85 and then a 250f all over the PNW with my dad for the next 10 years every weekend. 

Got out of riding for a while but I'm hooked again, following all the series for the last few years. Just sold everything to move from OR to SC, but finally in a spot to get a bike again for the first time in 16 or 17 years ..CANT WAIT!!!!

I was 5 years old, 81' PW50 in the gravel lot behind my dads body shop. He plopped me on it and said this is how it goes. I immediately froze on the throttle and rode straight into a pile of old car bumpers. I've been hooked ever since.

I rode an 82 CR 60 and that thing was insanely fast. I’m sure your 80 was similar. 

Small miracle we all survived these early motorcycle outings!

I was maybe 12.  A buddy had a Hodaka Super Rat, and he had me so terrified that I would loop it out if I didn't shift right using the clutch that I never shifted at all, just wound that baby out in 1st.  That shifted the terror, and he ran me down (not hard in 1st on a Hodaka), terrified I was going to blow up his bike

A buddy up the street in SoCal had a Taco 44. We would trade off running up and down the driveway. 
Long time ago, can’t believe I still remember👍

Taught my then-girlfriend to ride, on a 490 Maico (in hindsight, possibly not the best learner bike). 

A big flat, empty 5 acre field - nothing in it except a single electric pole in the middle.

Yes, she did.

PW50, yellow& black, age 4.  Nothing noteworthy except that I was complaining about the poor jetting at 4 without quite realizing I was.  

 "Its faster at 3/4 throttle than it is at full throttle!"  

Foreshadowing.  

Took some money I scored from 8th grade graduation, even though mom and dad said no way, and went to a couple older kids house that had an SL70 for sale I knew of. They took me out back to teach me to ride it, and said hold the throttle open all the way and let go of the clutch. Of course landed on my ass, whipped out the couple hundred bucks and pushed it home. That was 43 years ago, and I’ve never been without at least one dirtbike in all those years. I currently have myself, 3 sons, and a daughter that are avid racers, and wouldn’t change a single thing if I could.

Four years old doing circles around the backyard of our house in Great Falls, MT on an Indian Mini Mini. I came around on one lap, hit some bumps and whiskey throttled straight for the side wall of the neighbor's house. Just before I hit, my dad grab the back of my shirt and pulled me off. 
Maybe a month or so after that, I was heading back into the garage from riding the vacant lot across the street, forgot where the brakes were and hit the front wall of the garage. Been hooked on this goofy sport ever since.

Montgomery Wards minibike with a 3.5 hp Tecumseh, riding an oval track and wishing it had a 5 hp like my friend's did

If you asked my parents, I was a defective child. They tried to get me interested in any sport they could from karate to soccer but, I would bypass the governor on a lawn mower and kick the rod out. Tie my Big Wheel to the ICE cream truck with a rope or build bicycles from the frame up, all I watched was car movies like Vanishing Point, Gone in 60 Seconds or Convoy. Finally, my mom found an ad in a magazine that you could rent a dune buggy at Pismo and at seven they took me. While she was renting me an ATC70, I was in the shop in the back trying to get a job. She was pretty pissed and had to pay extra because once they gave it to me, I didn't come back.

I was 21 years old when I bought my first bike, more on that in a second. 

I really wanted to ride/race when I was a kid but my parents were of the "you'll die on that thing" mindset. 4th grade I got caught doing donuts on my neighbors ATC90 in the alley by my mom. Spent the summer on restriction and could no longer be friensds with Brent because his parents would let him have a murder cycle. 

So highschool sports, 4 years collage ND State, moved 1,800 miles away to California in late 85, found Palm Ave and went to the 86 Carlsbad USGP. The very next day I went to Fun Bike Center to buy a CR500, went to Palm a couple times and decided it was time to race. 

Missed practice, ran into the gate, ate shit in the first turn, endo'd off the ledge. Frank said sell that thing before you die, gave me a No Fear tee shirt, the all black one with giant neon pink letters on the back and I was hooked. 

Side note, REM at Carls was my first race and when Frank announced his retirement I decided REM at GH was my last race as well. 

Sucks getting old.

It was my 6th birthday.  Came home from my laser tag party to a PW80 sitting in the garage.  Probably the best first ride ever.  The XR100 that replaced it was an absolute pig, I hated it.

My best first ride story was something else entirely.  I was maybe 11 or 12.  We were riding at my friend's house.  His neighbor was a privateer mechanic and sold the friend's dad a steel-framed CR250 because they had switched to the aluminum frame that year.  He claimed it was a race bike, but it was more than likely some guy's practice bike.

Anyway, by that age I was riding a KDX 200 or XL 200 with supervision.  The dad gives me a go on the CR250 and I immediately loop it.  His dad says, "Let me show you how to ride" and proceeds to loop the bike.

The CR250 was quickly replaced with an ATC 200.  His thought is that he knew he couldn't prevent us from riding the CR, so an ATC was the safer option.

Very first time, neighbors PW50. Gave it all the gas and rode into a barbed wire fence

About a year later was at a friends grandmas house. They had a Z50 that I putted around a sportsmans club until it ran out of gas.

Still hooked today