We used to have Gravity Races on a bicycle when I was a kid. Our "Gravity Racer" was an old frame, forks and wheels, that's all (well, except for handlebars and a saddle of some sort). Tires and/or air in them, along with common sense were optional. Oh yes, we stuck a stick through the bottom bracket for a footrest.
We would push the "Gravity Racer" up the hill in front of the school, which was about the only hill in town, and one person would stand at the intersection about half way to Main Street to watch for Lawyer Tate in his Dodge or Tom Groves in his pickup who might come along at most any time. They were about the only people who lived along the street that crossed the one euphemistically known as "Broadway". Stinnett hadn't acquired the status of a one-stoplight town at that time but we did have one horse. His name was "Old Granddad" and was famous for jumping over things. One time his owner won a bet that he could jump over a Buick. Anyway, I digress (whatever that means) which I'm prone to do.
When the kid at the intersection waved his arms, which was the signal for both, "it's clear or someone is coming" we would run as fast as possible, leap on and begin our coast down the hill. The object was to see who could coast the longest distance and we would make a mark in the dirt street where we came to a stop.
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