If there’s a dumb thing you can do at a race track, particularly if it’s done at slow speeds, I’m one of the first people to jump up and volunteer as tribute. A number of years ago during an illicit middle-of-the-night golf-cart race around Road Atlanta, I recall dumping a little electric job on its side at perhaps no more than 25 miles per hour. I’ll drag a knee on a 50cc motorbike, or wind up on my hip with the bike sliding away from me for trying. And I would happily pick up the gauntlet for a Piaggio Ape endurance race were any of you ballsy enough to lay it down.
Two Bit Scooter Club 