◄ Back

Next ►

Picture 1 of 11

When I was 12 I had a dirt bike.  I rode the shit out of this dirt bike, and it often broke down.  Thankfully my step dad said he knew a lot about dirt bikes, and always managed to keep it running.  One day it was broken beyond repair so I had to take it to a real mechanic.  This is when I was informed first hand of how badly my dirt bike was ghetto rigged.  Beer caps doubled as washers, and chicken wire was used for bolts.  The mechanic ended up telling me that he couldn’t work on my bike because he didn’t want to get in trouble if I died.  Here’s to all of us who can make it work, even if we’ve only got a hammer and duct tape.