by mk

ecib and I were talking about our first bikes today.

That's mine. (Not actually it, just a picture I found.) There is a story behind it. My dad woke my brother up early in the morning on trash days, and we would pick up the newspaper stacks people would leave at the curb, and fill up the back of his pickup. We’d take the papers to a recycling place for money. I don’t remember how long we did this. Maybe a few months? Anyway, eventually, he told my brother and I that we had earned enough to buy our first bikes. This was my selection.

I loved that bike.