After two days of picking up storm debris and burning it, I am sore and have several bug bites. If I had just used the hand cart or wheel barrow, it would have been much more strenuous and less productive. The bed hinges and dumps like a micro-dump truck. My girls used to drive it all over the island, including swamps and woods. They had a great time with the mule. Then civilization reared its ugly head in the form of county police officers. Unable to prevent burglaries or confront armed criminals, these SAS Wannabees bravely pounced on teens operating golf carts and utility vehilces (as they had been doing for years here). So now I just use it around the yard. I still see some kids driving theirs to the tennis courts, ball field, store, and the swimming area, but not as many as before the big crackdown. Our overlords and rulers 300 miles away in Atlanta have passed laws forbidding youths from operating such vehicles except on their own property. Blythe Island is less rural than it was when I moved here, but at least my girls had a taste of freedom when they were younger. As they grow older, they will have to live in the totalitarian police state the compulsive regulators have created for them.