The methodic beat of rubber on pavement echoed down the slanting corridor of forgotten buildings. Josh Cramer stood from his seat and leaned over the handlebars. He pedaled harder, pushed down on the handles and popped off a shallow pit of sunken asphalt. For a brief moment, he was weightless, beaming the carefree smile of a 12-year-old boy who had escaped the classroom for a day, and then his Trekton punched back into the street, compressing its front shocks and sending a tingling bolt up Josh’s arms.
At the Toucan
At the Toucan
At the Toucan
The methodic beat of rubber on pavement echoed down the slanting corridor of forgotten buildings. Josh Cramer stood from his seat and leaned over the handlebars. He pedaled harder, pushed down on the handles and popped off a shallow pit of sunken asphalt. For a brief moment, he was weightless, beaming the carefree smile of a 12-year-old boy who had escaped the classroom for a day, and then his Trekton punched back into the street, compressing its front shocks and sending a tingling bolt up Josh’s arms.