When I was a kid there was a Dry Cleaners a couple of blocks away, they had a drive up window with an oval shaped drive going up and around past the window, usually after dark when they were closed a bunch of us neighborhood brats would ride our bikes up there and have 50 & 100 lap races, bump & grind and plenty of concrete abrasions & Band Aids, what fun, what memories!
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Just an Old Drag Racer that still has dreams of going fast!
All I remember from the Big Wheel days was trying to sleep in an apartment after 3rd shift. It was on the bottom of a BIG hill, and the rug rats would run down that hill on Big Wheels and slide them sideways to stop behind my apartment before they went into Big Dutchman Creek a ten-foot drop into the ditch. Talk about thunder, the noise those big plastic wheels made on pavement? Let alone the hollering and carrying on. They were having big fun at the expense of my rest time.
But I didn't go outside and Redneck the kids, I just crammed another pillow over my head and tried to go back to sleep. Working shifts is hard enough already. Dang, whatta racket.
2 years ago i had one of my friends pull me behind his truck on a power wheels i bought for $5 at a yard sale, power wheels get really hairy over 25mph
Memories?? Heck yeah -- no pain quite so exquisite as unexpected crossbar-gonad contact. And dang did we laugh when it happened to some other poor sap.
It was balloon-tired bikes. I had a "restored" Rollfast - no, Dad didn't buy it for me and I had to figure out how to get tires, etc. Brush painted with remnants of paint from several fathers' shops - I wonder if they ever figured out where that can of (fill in the blank color) went. I quickly learned to only mix enamel with enamel - ruined a couple of cans of paint before I sorted that out.
There was no jumping. The ramp hadn't been invented yet. The dudes building the pyramids may have used them but none of our dads were on that work crew so none of us knew about a stinkin' ramp. Plenty of races, though - I rarely won. Some things never change.
One of the kids at school had a Schwinn Black Phantom - rich kid with a bamboozled father. I would DROOL! I tried to convince myself that mine was better because I built it myself. 'T'other night I realized that most of the stuff on American Restoration I USED in my youth!
Like Dan.........all we had were used bikes and had to
work like hell to keep 'em running.
The big deal back then was Perryville Hill.
You cycled to the bottom......then tried to ride your
bike back to the top without stopping.
Once you accomplished this.........you were big stuff.
I'm lying a little bit, if you can tell. Yes we did have bananna seat bikes back in my day.
And hills...I was 31 years old on a radical touring bicycle when I rode far enough to get to a hill. Cameron Pass in CO. 10,600 feet. I thought there were hills in our neighborhood when I was a kid...no. Those weren't hills.
The trees are dead up there on the pass, not enough oxygen. I mean, day-um. I asked for it, I did it. That's Juan helluva hill right there. Everything's down from there, the whole rest of the continent is down from there. Day-um. What a Juan helluva hill on a bicycle. No wonder I can't walk most mornings, on these creaky knees.
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