Random Thoughts:

Though it has been a while since anybody's asked how I got started in BMX, the Milwaukee BMX venture has me thinking about it a fair amount. I'm not totally sure how I may have answered in the past, but, whatever the reply was, it probably wasn't entirely accurate. This recent introspection makes it quite clear that there was a "point" at which I became a BMX'er.

Yeah, sure, I had the speed for the neighborhood around the block races, and caught my share of air off the obligatory cinder block with 1 x 6 plank for a ramp. I was, I suppose, a brave little imp on a bike back then who must have seemed bent on making my mother nervous.

The Early Days ...
In 1977, as a 10 year old, BMX was around me, but I was just about completely unaware of it. The kids in my neighborhood were mainly into racing around the block and pretty much we were all just about goofing off back then. I think '77 was also the year that I got my first "MX" bicycle ... some odd sort of Huffy that I absolutely knew was "MX" ... because it said so right on the back of the saddle. I immediately proceeded to deck out my "MX" with just about every non MX item I could think of. We're talking mirrors, some big honking headlight ... and, yeah ... an even bigger honking horn. Those who are helping Milwaukee BMX a reality some 30 years later are probably not at all suprised to know that I was a dork.

Somewhere, in one of my mom's crusty old photo albums, there is absolute proof of this. The photo sequence highlights me "dialing in" my "MX", then on some obvious bonzai run, and, in the next shot, I've eaten poo. It must have been a premonition that led me to throw on a toy Green Bay Packers helmet, and my body was similarly well protected by my gold windbreaker with "Monroe Shock Absorbers" sticker and plaid denim pants. All of you guys who chuckle at what a yard sale I look like when I show up to the track now ... should have seen me then.

The little MX got pretty thrashed that summer ... and, I'm pretty sure it went missing all together from the front lawn one evening. Even crappy bikes have a way of vanishing if left unobserved ... even in Sheboygan, Wisconsin ... even in 1977. Anyhow, by '78 I was riding some wild and weird, even more motorcycle looking Huffy with a 3 speed shifter mechanism, and bright green body panels. I'm quite certain that Kawasaki was way past making BMX bikes at this point, but the cheapo Huffy / Kawasaki replica lived on in the O'Donnell household. So did my tendancy to not keep a real close eye on my bikes. And so it was that the Huffy disappeared one night as well. (Seriously, in retrospect, I can just imagine the neighborhood thugs just hovering around the O'Donnell house ... easy pickin's after all).

Perhaps it was a weird twist of fate ... but, my carelessness with bikes led me to a bikeless beginning of 1979. That is, until Sheboygan's finest called to let us know that the first huffy had been recovered in some kids garage raid. So, the "MX" returned, and I was back off and riding.

The Start of Something New ...
Around this same time, I was becoming increasingly aware of some crazy new thing that was going on called BMX. In fact, the new 1979 Mongoose bikes that had arrived at Bike N' Ski warehouse were just as overt in informing kids like me that they were BMX as the little Huffy was with it's obvious notation of "MX". Perhaps it was just cooincidental that the Mongoose "BMX" was simply a change in perspective from the Huffy "MX". While the Huffy was MX from the back ... the Mongoose told you right up front that it was BMX.

In 1979, I must have visited Bike N' Ski warehouse 6,466 times; sat on the Mongoose bikes 247,567,987 times; and irritated the heck out of Mike LaBouve every single moment during those visits. As evidence of the fact that sometimes, parents just don't get it, my repeated requests for some "sponsorship" from mom for a new 'Goose evolved into a deal for me to make good grades as I entered the 7th grade ... for a Schwinn SX-1000. Now, the Schwinn was a good bike, but, it wasn't a Mongoose. But, I was game for the deal, because hey, I wasn't dumb. My grades, however, seemed to indicate otherwise. Evidentally, early in the 7th grade, I became really good at hiding ... which evolved into being really good at being bullied and my grades just sucked as a result. Such is life. The SX-1000, which was on lay-a-way, had a full deposit returned to my mom ... and I got myself a paper route.

Having saved up just enough at the tail end of '79 to convince my mom that it would be really cool if she met me 1/2 way on a much less expensive, but still kinda cool Murray with Motomags, I was able to retire the little huffy at Christmas of '79.

The Moment:
About two months later, still making awful grades, with a heavy new ride, I caught, out of the corner of my eye, the cover image of March 1980 Bicycle Motocross Action at the South High Pharmacy drug store. The Panda Pro-Am on the cover, subject of that months big bike test, was like nothing I had quite ever seen before. It had alloy wheels, an alloy seatpost and looked absolutely purposeful. The Mongoose and Schwinn dealers in town had a fair amount of "thrasher" inventory, but, for a long time, the SX-1000, that I had almost laid claim to, with its mild steel frame, was the closest in town to anything like the Panda. And, there were all sorts of bikes that were built just like the Panda inside the magazine. JMC's, CYC's (Ronnie Ames Stormer), Lagunas, GT's, Race Inc.'s and on and on. Though I was generally headed in the BMX direction, clearly, the moment I laid eyes on that magazine was the moment I became a BMX'er.



It's impossible to say how many kids that saw that very same issue as their first of Bicycle Motocross Action went on to become BMX racers themselves, but, in my case ... I did. Spending even more time at Bike N' Ski until they finally gave me some tasks to complete in exchange for payment toward a Redline MX-II they had on the floor. My first race was the 1981 SE / Rondo Classic, an indoor national on the ABA tour that was held at the convention center in Minneapolis. Talk about jumping in with the sharks ... but, that's another story.

The Moral of the Story:
The moral of the story, quite obviously, is that we all have a story. It makes me really proud to know that in 30 years, perhaps some 40 year old former or current BMX'er is going to be asked the question ... "so, how did you get started in BMX". That rider will spend some time pondering the answer, which, with clarity, will arrive, fresh and ready as it was the day he had his moment. The day he arrived, with his parents, a bike and maybe a friend, at Crystal Ridge, and slowly made the drive up the driveway ... until the BMX track came in clear view.

Kevin O'