You Might Be a Chat Rat If…
BB gun scars, busted handlebars, and pride that outweighed caution—if your childhood came with a warning label and a cloud of chat dust, you might be one of us.
Twelve Miles to Cool
The summer before we could drive, we chased cool on ten-speeds—twelve blistering miles from Picher to Riverview Pool. What started as a ride for freedom became a journey into sunburns, daredevil dives, and baby oil goddesses. We thought we were chasing cool. But we were just riding home.