…and here we are.
Go ahead, point and laugh.
Pussies.
They neglected to talk about Evel Knievel, or show the shoddily built ramps we made from scrap lumber, from which we launched said big wheels and bikes. Or the careless use of fireworks, which we so enjoyed. I once jumped my bike off a ramp with sparklers stuck in both ends if the handlebars, and a smoke bomb strapped under the seat, to leave a trail as I sped down the street towards the ramp.
I’d given instructions to my best bud to light off a roll of firecrackers, right as I hit the ramp, and they started going off while I was in mid air. I was a fuckin’ legend. Even nailed the landing without wiping out. Burned the shit out the rubber hand grips on my handlebars, which I then had to explain to my old man. Yeah, he chewed my ass. Then he got me new grips and put them on.
Rewatch the video.
ps I was that remote, dammit. I remember the first remote tv I saw. It had a servo rotating the knob in one direction only, would not be fun today.
We watched the packs of kids riding across town, gettin a ball game together, checking stuff out,,it slowly stopped being Normal, it’s frikken Over.
Damn! I missed childhood in the 70s.
*****
Mine was 50s and 60s.
Same here. I was so jazzed about getting a springer, front end, Stingray.
Mine was in the 50s and 60s, also. We had supervision, ever adult in town keep an eye on you, and God forbid, they felt the need to talk to your parents about your behavior. I don’t miss mercurochorme one bit and you had to really be bleeding to get a band-aid.
We ranged to far away for them to see us. It was a glorious time.
We were the last ones to know true freedom.
Speaking of jumping bikes, I jumped mine 32 feet off a plywood ramp.
On pavement.
Nailed it too
Evel Knievel was my hero.
We also pedaled our 10 speeds all the way around the bay in Coos Bay Oregon one day. At least a 40 mile round trip and our parents had no clue where we were at.
…and here we are.
Go ahead, point and laugh.
Pussies.
They neglected to talk about Evel Knievel, or show the shoddily built ramps we made from scrap lumber, from which we launched said big wheels and bikes. Or the careless use of fireworks, which we so enjoyed. I once jumped my bike off a ramp with sparklers stuck in both ends if the handlebars, and a smoke bomb strapped under the seat, to leave a trail as I sped down the street towards the ramp.
I’d given instructions to my best bud to light off a roll of firecrackers, right as I hit the ramp, and they started going off while I was in mid air. I was a fuckin’ legend. Even nailed the landing without wiping out. Burned the shit out the rubber hand grips on my handlebars, which I then had to explain to my old man. Yeah, he chewed my ass. Then he got me new grips and put them on.
Rewatch the video.
ps I was that remote, dammit. I remember the first remote tv I saw. It had a servo rotating the knob in one direction only, would not be fun today.
We watched the packs of kids riding across town, gettin a ball game together, checking stuff out,,it slowly stopped being Normal, it’s frikken Over.
Damn! I missed childhood in the 70s.
*****
Mine was 50s and 60s.
Same here. I was so jazzed about getting a springer, front end, Stingray.
Mine was in the 50s and 60s, also. We had supervision, ever adult in town keep an eye on you, and God forbid, they felt the need to talk to your parents about your behavior. I don’t miss mercurochorme one bit and you had to really be bleeding to get a band-aid.
We ranged to far away for them to see us. It was a glorious time.
We were the last ones to know true freedom.
Speaking of jumping bikes, I jumped mine 32 feet off a plywood ramp.
On pavement.
Nailed it too
Evel Knievel was my hero.
We also pedaled our 10 speeds all the way around the bay in Coos Bay Oregon one day. At least a 40 mile round trip and our parents had no clue where we were at.