A not so long time ago in a galaxy not so far,far,far away, in fact quite close actually, there was a young boy (Me) and a dreadful bike. Now I know what you're thinking, “It’s just a bike, how could it possibly be so bad?” Well, I’ll just have to tell you, from the beginning, the very beginning. It all started in the year 2013, when we came home from the bike store. I had just gotten a brand new mountain bike and it was sure a “beaut.” It had a distinct matte black with a dark grey detail and so many gears it made my head spin. It had colossal wheels with shiny black rims.I could already picture my greatest adventures becoming a reality. At first, it all went as planned. My bike and I went everywhere together. On the edge of my neighborhood, by the park across the street from EastLake, there is an area that my buddies and I like to call “The Dirt Jumps.” This area is in the trees and is made up of a series of dirt mounds, from big to small, wide to thin, you can pretty much find any kind of jump you want. It makes a boy feel like a real motocross rider. So you can see how it’s hard to see how it all went wrong. …show more content…
Three times this one summer, and boy, have I gotten the scars of battle to prove
Have you ever rode a dirtbike? I have my dad got it for me on my 9th b-day. After receiving this dirt bike, I now ride it all over the place. It has become apart of my life!
My dad was trying to convince my buddy Perry and I to do the hill climb in Logan, Iowa that was the same day as the race. We both kept telling him no because I didn’t want to roll my new bike down a huge hill and we both loved racing. We washed
The sandlot was a vacant lot we especially used for unorganized sports. It was a place during my childhood years where I could go and not have a worry on my mind, except being with my best friends and playing some baseball. The lot was a place where the memories of endless fun and games took place. I can still hear the voices of neighbors yelling at us to go home because of the tennis balls we hit against their houses and off their windows. To us the sandlot was better than Wrigley Field, nothing else could compare to all the times we had there.
As a teenager, he became interested in motorcycles. As a gift, his father purchased him a fire-red, Italian motorcycle. He sped everywhere on it and became the envy of his classmates. He soon began racing motorcycles, for many of the local factory owners had racing teams. He...
When we went to michigan and took our fourwheeler and we went threw paths and threw mud.the time they use to do that we went to riding it was fun and how we use to no what happen to that with 3 fourwheeler they use in the mud they use to that they use to do and the stuff they use to no what happen to know that. and with my friends and we were there for a week and rode a lot and it was fun they use and the fun stuff the use to no what happen to that with the stuff and the four wheeler about got to.
My parents still tell me stories when my brother and I would fall asleep riding with them. When I was five I got a Mini Z 120 that was the best thing a five-year-old could get and let me tell you I rode the daylights out of that. I only hit two trees and one pickup and the house two times, dad was never happy about that, but then again I was only five. Then when I got older I would ride with my dad on the back and tucker would ride his own and then now and then I would drive with my dad with me. Then one day I was riding on my own. I was 13 and we got to Ventura and we had to get gas so we pull into the gas station there was a DNR sitting there. I didn’t have my
Beijing Bicycle. Dir. Xiaoshuai WangPyramid. Perf. Lin Chou and Xun Zhou. Pyramid Productions, 2001. DVD.
Eventually, a majority of my rides started to get lengthier, and I started to feel like I was starting to get the hang of it. I finally got the self-confidence that I knew I needed if I was going to be able to do overcome this challenge. I hopped on the bike, getting a feeling that this was going to be my lucky run. As usual, my dad gave me a little push start, and I was on my way. I rode through the grass like it was a breeze, and I didn’t fall off at all. I could hear my dad in the distance shouting, “Good job! You got it!” It was at this moment when I knew that I had finally learned how to ride a bike.
Summer is the time of year to let loose and have fun. School is out and there are no deadlines to meet, papers to write, or grades to fret over. The summer before third grade is definitely the one to remember. It was a time to watch the stars, get caught in the rain, and really learn how minor moments can mean so much more.
“Daiya, I’m off to grab some smokes!” Mondo called to his elder brother, frenzied with wanderlust only an experienced bike could handle. No goodbye came loud enough to be heard over the excessive revving of his engine, anticipating a night air waiting to envelop it with curiosity and an owner longing to *see*.
The bicycle’s front wheel continues heading diagonally toward the bus” (47). Despite the warning the man on the bicycle has, he doesn’t seem to stop. Was he hoping to kill himself? In the very last second, the man releases the buggy his son was in, and he is crushed by the wheels (47). “As his hand touches the shade, the buggy flies off, bouncing on the single wheel... The man is instantly crushed under the wheels” (47).
The car's V-8 engine roared as the driver slammed the pedal to the ground. A wicked smile graced his lips. In in his mind it was all over. Unable to accept the idea of being roadkill, I did the only thing I could.....I turned the handlebars of my bike with all my might, veered off the road and into a nearby yard.
Armstrong, Lance, and Sally Jenkins. It's Not about the Bike: My Journey Back to Life. New York: Putnam, 2000. Print.
Everyone loves a thrill. We watch movies that make us rethink what is in the dark with us, jump off of bridges and cliffs with our only savior being a bungee cord that may or may not be 10 years old, and we create gravity defying, speeding cars without motors and brakes. The crazy thing is, we do it all for fun. I, however, didn’t have a fun time when I went on a roller coaster that went upside down for the first time.
We finish what we start. This was the motto that kept me going during the strenuous training period for a marathon. But prior to that, I must confess, I wasn’t an athlete. I was never interested in playing sports, except for recreational badminton. During gym class, I would walk three quarters of the time when it time for the dreaded mile run. I preferred staying indoors and sitting on the couch and watch movies. The first time I had heard about a marathon training program, called Dreamfar, in my school, I thought to myself, what kind of crazy person would want to run a marathon? Never did I realize, eight months later, I would be that crazy person.