My first bike was fire engine red, chrome bars, black grips, a chain guard and solid rubber tires. It was a hard bumpy ride but I didn’t care. It meant a whole new freedom for me. Growing up in the country 9 miles outside of Junction City Oregon. A very small town 12 miles from Eugene meant to get anywhere you had to get your parents or your friends parents to drive you. My bike meant to me more then you know. Ferguson Road was a country road with dirt ditches paralleling it for it entirety. That’s where the first of many jumps where born.

I quickly moved on from that bike to the bike my sister left behind and literally road that thing to it’s rims. We had a gravel driveway and I would spin the wheels for hours making sparks and trying to grind them off. This mad jumping very rough of course. My parents saw that I was in need of another two-wheeled machine. This is when “Mag Force” came in to my life. This blue and white beauty was amazing with black steel mags, V cross bar handlebars, mild steel frame and fork, and a chain guard that had “Mag Force” painted on it. Oh yeah, can’t forget the full reflector package as well. This bike is where my wheelie and jumping career really began. So much so that my dad had that jalopy welded three different time until the fourth and final double break took place.

Enter the Diamond Back Viper. Perfection in my eyes, chrome on chrome. Now it was time to take it to the local track behind Autzin Satium where the Ducks played football. I finally had a bike worthy of a BMX racetrack. This is when my love for BMX really set in. See the older guys ride at such speeds and go so high over the doubles, which at that time seemed insurmountable. I remember the first time I had ever got crossed up coming out of a ditch jump. That feeling of uncertainty because you have never felt your bike tweaked to the side like that. Am I going to be able to pull it back so I don’t crash in front of my buddies. Simpler times then, all you had to do was kick out three or four inches to the side to have pulled it. Those where some of the best feelings ever.

Being raised on a farm in the country you are taught to be resourceful and self sustaining. Many of scraped together jumps where built. One crazy one that I will never forget is the pickle bucket jump. The ingredients for this disaster waiting to happen is simple. 1 – 10 gallon pickle bucket, and 2 – 1”x6”x6’ planks. Place the bucket upside down and lean one board on it. Lay the other board halfway down on top of the other board to give it a smoother transition. Now place your newly built launcher next to the ditch. This is when you peddle way to fast hoping you clear the step down death gap. Landing on the country asphalt road a good bike length away. We had to set the boards back up every time one of us jumped it. I have no idea why it never fell apart as we charged up it.

Freestyle and flatland. My first job in town was at Eric’s Market. I saved my money and sold my Diamondback to a co-worker and ordered my Haro Master. Half blue and chrome frame and chrome forks. This was almost inconceivable but there it was.