"Bicycle Diaries" − 1 January, 1981 - 30 March, 1990

Micaela is not much of a bike rider. She has a Barbie bike and she rides about 5 times a year and it still has the training wheels on it. We've tried to get her to ride it more, but she just isn't interested, especially now that she is getting a bit too old for the Barbie thing.

This lack of interest is strange for me since my bike was a huge part of my childhood. It was my ticket to freedom and exploration. Heather, Miceala and I were talking about it the other night and memories just came rushing back, so I decided to document some of the special moments I've spent on the open road with my bike.

My first bike was a Huffy Western themed banana seat bike.
My second bike was a Huffy Pro Lightening. I distinctly remember the "V" shape cross bar on the handle bars and the padding to protect the "family jewels". I had red rubber tires to go with the red pads. I had a thing for jumping off of curbs and kicking the back wheel out. I bent the rim and it would wobble for years.
My third bike was a Mongoose MotoMag. This thing was a monster. It was heavy, and to add to that it had thick spiderweb spokes. It was good for me though because I could ride the hell out of it and not break it.
When I was in the 3rd grade, we lived in the northern part of Rialto next to the Cajon Wash. There are a lot of motorcycle trails there and at the time open fields would lead to the edge of the wash. My friend and I where riding bikes there one day and came across a 40 foot drop into the wash. The trail was rough and had grooves dug out from the motorcycle tires. We sat at the top of the hill for 30 minutes daring each other to ride down the hill. Neither one of us would do it. Right as we were about the leave, I lost my footing and the weight of the "Viper" lead me down the hill. I got that hot tingly feeling when you are scare out of your mind. I made it to the bottom of the hill alive. WHAT A RUSH!. After convincing my friend to do it, we rode up and down the hill for hours.
Also in 3rd grade my mom and I were living in San Bernardino and she would put my bike on a bike rack on the back of the Datson 280 ZX and take me to school at Trap elementary. After school I would ride my bike to my grandparent's house at the south side of the city. It was 5.2 miles and I loved every minute of it. I learned how to ride with no hands.
The rubber grips on the handle bars would wear down on the ends from throwing my bike down on the ground rather than using the kick stand. This would make the metal tubes poke through. I was riding with a friend and we somehow just nudged each other and the handle bars spun sideways and the metal bar stuck in my stomach. I had a circle scar for years and years after that.
My fourth bike was a Diamond Back Hot Streak. It wasn't green like the one in this picture. It was gray and it had white rims and tires. I wanted this bike so bad that I would go to Don's bike shop a couple times a week just to look at it. If you look close it has built in "pegs" for doing tricks. I got it for Christmas and it was custom build with no brakes on the pedals, only hand breaks.
I lived near a recreation center that resembled a school. My friends and I would ride our bikes through the hallways like maniacs. There was a security guard that would patrol the hallways. He was a bit slow mentally, but he took his job very seriously. He tried to chase us off one day and my pant leg got stuck in the chain and I went down hard. I was ok, but as my friends rode away without me I knew I was caught. I played that I was a little more hurt than I was to make the guy feel bad. He helped me up and as soon as I was able to get back on my bike, I rode away. Shameful.
This bike was stolen about 3 days shy of 9th grade graduation. I had gone to school and forgot my lock. I made a weak attempt to make it look like it was locked, but when I came out from class it was gone.
My fifth bike was a cheap 10 speed bike. I rode it to High School all through my sophomore year. It was humiliating. As soon as I started driving, I never rode a bike again.