My grandpa had a literal junkyard of old bicycles and appliances in the canyon behind his house. "Why should I pay
someone else to take it away when I can just throw it off this cliff?" he would say.
My brother and I would spend hours climbing down the hill to retrieve old bike parts (vintage Schwinns), which we would use to build our own custom bikes. Then we would throw the leftover parts back down into the canyon. I'm sure all that stuff is still there, too. The land has never been developed.
Anyway, I wanted a "real" BMX racing bike, and I knew that the old Schwins wouldn't cut it. But the local stores only sold Huffys, and Huffys were for poseurs.
I wanted a
Mongoose. Everyone knew that all the cool kids rode Mongooses. But, alas, my parents could not afford a Mongoose. However, my dad went down to the local bike shop and they were able to negotiate a good deal on an
AMF -- basically a wannabe Mongoose. But at least it wasn't a Huffy or a Schwinn.
Anyway, from that point I was hooked. I rode that thing EVERYWHERE. My friends and I built a BMX track through the local park, which was totally against the law but for one glorious summer we were down there every day terrorizing all the old people who were trying to have their daily walks. I got a job delivering papers and saved up all my money to buy a
GT Performer. But when it arrived, the paint was so scratched up that I just started crying hysterically. I called their customer service department and they tried to buy me off with touch-up paint. My rageaholic reply: "TOUCH-UP PAINT?!?!? I (sniff) WANT (sniff) A (sniff) BRAND (sniff) NEW (sniff) BIKE (sniff) WITH (sniff) NOOOOOOO SCRATCHES!!!!!" I think they thought I was possessed by the devil, but darned if a new bike didn't show up a week later.
Anyway, I quickly decided that the GT wasn't for me. My BMX heroes were all Haro guys, so that's what I had to get. So I sold the GT, worked another part-time job, and eventually got the pinnacle of BMX bikes -- the
Haro Master. At that point I was a budding vert rider. We had a quarterpipe in the backyard and I was riding every day after school. I started entering competitions but could never get past the intermediate level. Then I turned 16 and I don't think I ever rode my bike again.
Anyway, the Haro is still in my parents' attic. At one point the frame was autographed by the entire Haro team when I met them on a promotional tour, but their autographs have long since faded away by now.