I had learned how to drive by then.
In 1949 when I was 12 I went 124 in a flathead rail at the drags.
Whoa! A few years ago my sister in Las Vegas said she needed another car. What happened, I asked? Her 12-year-old son took her keys without permission and went joy-riding, and banged it up. 11 years, 12 years, almost the same thing. At least you were at the right place, must have been fun!
You prolly got passed up by the pony express. ;-)