Stingray Bikes

You at least needed a crescent wrench (Why'd they ever call it a crescent wrench, anyway?) Nevermind; Let's talk about the coolest bike ever to emerge from the 60's: The Schwinn Stingray. You needed a crescent wrench to adjust the handle bars to move them forward, or backward; you also needed one to adjust the seat to a dangerous downward slope, or a cocky upward angle. In truth, you needed a crescent wrench for just about everything on this great bike. Okay, I'm done talking about crescent wrenches.

Now I'm on to phase II: daredevil stunts on the coolest bike ever to emerge from the 60's. As spring is just around the corner, I'm reminded of the greatest days of being on two wheels. We all know that bikes were meant for more than just riding. They were meant for tight spin-outs, wheelies, jumping on homemade ramps, racing with cars, and riding without hands. Even at a young age, I always had a hard time staying away from stupid feats of physical prowess that usually consorted with danger, mishaps and blood.

Band-Aids, gauze and the white medical tape (the kind strong enough to hold car bumpers together) were all staples in our household medicine cabinet. It was on those gnarly asphalt, or graveled roads where our dreams of glorious victory resided; in the medicine cabinet was where the agony of defeat lay. Guys like Steve McQueen, James Bond or The Man from U.N.C.L.E. were my idols; if death-defying danger was good enough for them, surely it was good enough for us regular guys on the block. Dangerous stunts and great feats of daredevil agility were common activities for me and the guys on my block.

Enter phase III: showing off in front of girls. Showing off was a daily event if girls were around. The more dangerous, wild, fast or life-endangering, the better it was if they were watching. Girls were often deliberately aloof; therefore, any hint of recognition was a positive sign. Getting their attention without "getting their attention" was probably the most difficult feat of all - far more difficult than our daring stunts. Brilliant acts of stupidity were usually best accomplished on a bike when girls were watching.

I've had some nasty bike accidents growing up, many of those I walked away unscathed. For the most part, I always felt I deserved some blood; something worthy of putting the gauze and white cement tape to. After all, if I decided to ride off the end of a concrete chunk in a construction lot, fall face first into the dirt, I deserved a little blood! Often these "Bloodless" accidents led us guys to believe that perhaps, like The Green Lantern, Batman, or The Flash, we were actually invincible.

Thus, being invincible, bigger and better feats of idiocy were in order. I've seen other kids do things on bikes that should be written on their headstones by now, yet they survived. However, there was the case of young David from across the street who took a header over the handle bars and knocked out his front tooth. That incident was pretty much a wake up call for a lot of us guys as there was lots of blood.

I've had my share of decent falls-blood included-but all said and done, bike riding was the best thing ever, and riding with friends was as good as it got.