pr0ject605

The first bike I picked out by myself screamed "10 year old boy in the 80's."

It was one of those speed bikes, or at least that was what we called them. It was basically just a normal Toys R Us bike with these solid discs covering the spokes of the wheels. Supposedly it made the bike go faster. Who said this? Probably the same kids who were convinced that the reason they won races at gym was due to the extra $10 their parents forked out for Nikes instead of British Knights. But these bikes were so embarrasingly 80's that you basically needed one for any kind of recognition. So, I finally got one. It's just too bad I didn't have one of those plastic blue jackets to accessorise it to my full 80's preadolescent boy potential. I did, however, have spandex shorts. *blech*

And did I race on it? Did I take my newly acquired status symbol on plastic covered wheels out and attempt to prove to anyone that it did, in fact, go faster than their bike? No... I completely destroyed it.

There was a playground right by the parking lot near my elementary school. The only playground-esque structure that it had, aside from the fact that it was a big ass open field, was the monkey bars located precariously near the pavement of the parking lot, daring anyone dumb enough to jump off of them and try to land safely on the cement. (you'd be amazed how many people actually DID try) Where the pavement ended was a nice roll of blacktop, a speedbump almost, which we saw as a ramp. Unfortunately the 'ramp' led right into the monkey bars. But we didn't let that stop us from taking advantage of it, we merely redesigned our playing around it.

What we'd do is ride around in circles and try to gain as much speed as we possibly could, and then ride full speed towards the ramp. While riding, you had to practically get off your bike and stand on a pedal on one side while still steering, and at the last possible minute, hop off and let your bike 'ghost ride' into the ramp, launching it right towards the monkey bars. Initially, the point of this was to see who could get their bike OVER the bars, but soon, we were all cheering the person who could inflict the most damage to their bike. You were never quite so proud as a kid as you were the day your handle bars cracked off your bike, and all your friends patted you on the back amid cries of "Dude, that was rad!", "Sweet buddy!", and "That totally kicked!" (hey, it was the 80's) And for just a few minutes, while you gloated, you almost forgot about the fact that you were still wearing a bright orange mesh shirt that your mom bought for you, and just days before you had to defend the fact that it totally sucked to your friends once you left the house.. or that you had to explain to your parents when you got home why the $110 bike they just bought a week before was in three pieces in the front yard. Yup, you almost forgot all about that when you were the hero of the day...

Almost...