Raw Power

As a child, I fell in love with my bike. I used to bike everywhere and anywhere, taking wandering, 10-mile long rides through my hometown on the Jersey Shore, with no particular point in mind and no particular place to go. I spent most of middle school and high school atop a 10-speed brown Schwinn, only rarely touching the handlebars.

My favorite bike was a purple banana seat bike I had in elementary school. For Christmas one year, I got a "Raw Power," a replacement handle grip that would twist and make a roaring noise like a Harley Davidson motorcycle.



I was, without a doubt, the coolest kid in my mind. The "Raw Power" proved its strength one day when I misjudged a parked car and absolutely destroyed the driver mirror. (It was parked the wrong way on the wrong side of the street.) Fortunately the bike was fine.