I think back just a few years when I was sixteen-years old and a printing apprentice. A fellow apprentice was totally engrossed in motorcycles. In those days, we rode British motorcycles, and he had an AJS-350. One sunny summer's day, he said to me, '"Would you like to come for a ride on my motorcycle?" That seemed to be a good idea. In those days we didn't wear any protective clothing, and, thus very lightly clad, I became the passenger on his motorcycle. He weaved through the streets of Norwich and then came to a long, straight road. He leaned back and said to me, "Have you ever traveled at one hundred miles an hour?" I said, "No." He said, '"Well, you're going to." I said, '"We don't have to." He began to rev the motorcycle, and the motorcycle roared forward. The skin on my face pulled tight, and the clothing blew as we went past ninety-eight to one hundred miles an hour. I determined that day that never again would I let somebody else control my life.
Source: Ensign, May 1990, p. 42., © by Intellectual Reserve, Inc.Used by permission.
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