photos on side from Memorial Day 2004 in Central Park, NYC
I recall being 5 y. o. and the overwhelming joy I felt when my Mom finally gave up to my persistent pleas and rented me a 12-inch Russian made scooter....I was ecstatic... this same feeling of joy and effortless glide re-visited me 40 years later when I got my 1st Razor. On the 2nd day of owning Razor I could not resist an urge to adapt a bike computer to a 4-inch wheel - a project that rivaled some of the nuclear-related work I did for living. I went for a 50 mile test in Central Park. It turned out I tested my bones for shatter-proofing..., 8 falls, 7 bruises. Gaping holes in my pants. I screamed loud "NO" to small wheels. ..And the wheels started to turn...Web searches lead me to bigger and bigger wheels...and they all ended up in my small Manhattan dwelling.
5-inch, 6-inch, 7-inch. Like a kid who does not want his ice cream to end I bought sometimes two or three scooters of the same model. I finally came across my first true love - 12-inch folding Sidewalkwer. This neat machine was perfect. It was small but safe and agile. I use it everywhere. I could (and still do) race city bikers and I occasionally used it for long rides like 60-mile round trip to Nayak or 117-mile trip to Montauk. I had to completely rebuilt the machine to adapt it to my small body and to slim it by 5 lb. Through experimentation I discovered that bold, light high pressure tires make it 10% faster. So since I could not find what I wanted I would clip off all rubber knobs (a two-hour job) on
12-inch kids tires that where 1.75 inch wide (in place of usual 2.25).
Then, one day, in search of 12-inch tires I stumbled into a neat scooter store on Manhattan's East Side - "NYCE wheels" . This is where I saw first Kick bike. The owner, Burt, generously allowed me to take it for a ride in Central Park. That same afternoon my "scooter family" welcomed its largest member. This was 3 years ago.
Now, six thousand miles later I look back and wonder, my god, look at what scooters did to me.. The "damage" is real and visible.
As I got older average age of my buds went down - it is 7 - and they are all neibourhood Razor-ites. (My adult friends invite me only if they want their kids to play with "Crazy uncle Sasha").
Some changes are less funny. Since I commute by scooter to work militarized guards at my high security job would occasionally scare me with cold-metal-sound of their assault rifles as I am panting up a hill to a 1st check point. Imagine getting shot at while out of breath.. Cruel world!
And there is more damage...I stopped running. I stopped bike racing. Bike miles went down from 10,000 a year to 3000.
Was it worth it?
Alex
