Of course it barely turned over. Tried bump-starting it down the driveway a few times, which was pitiful (not much of a run, there), so I pushed it halfway up the hill to Wescoe Hall (picture climbing Everest with a motorcycle in tow), stopped for a while to gasp and sweat in my helmet and gear, and then launched myself downhill in an effort to bump-start it using gravity's aid.
How'd it go? Let's just say that tonight is one of those nights when I fondly recall kick-starters. I think the neighbors know how I feel, too. Now where's that trickle-charger...?