My worst scars came at the wheel of a Dart Kart like the one pictured
We were doing donuts on an abandoned airport strip. There was a thin dusting of sand on the asphalt. When we hit that you could cut it hard and get several rotations. I asked my dad if I could take one more ride. I took off and as I was coming back I tried to send it into a spin where our car was parked. There was no sand there so it hooked up and barrel rolled about 3 times. I didn't get thrown out until maybe one and a half rolls. We had attached a triangular number plate in front of the steering wheel and over the steering column. My feet got hung up on that and it didn't throw me out immediately. I was dragged down the pavement on my back. Dad doctored me up when we got home. He said there wasn't an area much bigger than a quarter that wasn't raw on my back. You could see milky bluish bone at my right elbow.
I took off that day without my helmet. Dad flagged me down and made me put it on. It was all scratched above the forehead when it was over. I don't imagine I'd be posting on RRB today if dad hadn't got me to helmet up that day. No leathers either. Jeans and a t-shirt. I was about 13 years of age.
Karts don't normally roll. The problem was my young mind (or lack thereof) didn't understand physics. The WWII era pavement was very coarse where I chose to cut and the kart just didn't slide.![Face with head-bandage :head_bandage: 🤕](https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f915.png)
![1965_rupp_dart_kart_a_bone_1544140989f8cbe183b9Go-Cart_03.jpg 1965_rupp_dart_kart_a_bone_1544140989f8cbe183b9Go-Cart_03.jpg](https://cdn.imagearchive.com/ratrodbikes/data/attach/245/245713-1965-rupp-dart-kart-a-bone-1544140989f8cbe183b9Go-Cart-03.jpg)
We were doing donuts on an abandoned airport strip. There was a thin dusting of sand on the asphalt. When we hit that you could cut it hard and get several rotations. I asked my dad if I could take one more ride. I took off and as I was coming back I tried to send it into a spin where our car was parked. There was no sand there so it hooked up and barrel rolled about 3 times. I didn't get thrown out until maybe one and a half rolls. We had attached a triangular number plate in front of the steering wheel and over the steering column. My feet got hung up on that and it didn't throw me out immediately. I was dragged down the pavement on my back. Dad doctored me up when we got home. He said there wasn't an area much bigger than a quarter that wasn't raw on my back. You could see milky bluish bone at my right elbow.
I took off that day without my helmet. Dad flagged me down and made me put it on. It was all scratched above the forehead when it was over. I don't imagine I'd be posting on RRB today if dad hadn't got me to helmet up that day. No leathers either. Jeans and a t-shirt. I was about 13 years of age.
Karts don't normally roll. The problem was my young mind (or lack thereof) didn't understand physics. The WWII era pavement was very coarse where I chose to cut and the kart just didn't slide.
![Face with head-bandage :head_bandage: 🤕](https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f915.png)
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