Get a cup of tea, this is a long one.

I can't remember the precise year but I'm estimating it was 1976. I do know that I hadn't long started Primary School and I wasn't old enough to venture further than, 'the end of the road.' Our family lived in Moreton, on the Wirral. I was part of the last generation of kids that actually played out. There was no such thing as, 'just hanging out'. This was years before there was such a thing as video games, let alone Nintendo and Playstations. We'd go out in the morning and not return until you heard your mum shout, 'Tea!'
It was here that I learnt to ride my first bike. It didn't have a particular style, BMX or MTB hadn't evolved yet, it was just a generic kids bike of the time. It never had stabilisers attached to it and I clearly remember being really excited to try and ride it in the relative safety of our garden with my mum running along side, holding onto the shoulder of my green Parka coat for balance, everyone had a green Parka at that time, they had the most incredible, unique smell that has never been recreated by any other garment.
It wasn't long before I was riding solo, it wasn't very graceful, slightly of out of control and frantic but it was definitely unadided. I was initially shocked that no one was holding onto me but just kept pedalling until I came to a clumsy stop into the fence at the end of the garden. My first riding mission was completed.
I'm not sure if your proud and aware of your achievements at the age of 6 but I was certainly happy that I could now cycle.
My newly found skill of cycling now gave me independence, well, I thought it did, in actual fact, it just meant I could go up and down the street quicker than I could run, but it did mean I could now also mix with the older kids all of whom had bikes. One of these kids, Alan Ross, was way cool in my eyes. He had all the things that a 6 year old could jealously want; ferrets, gerbils and best of all was his bike, a Raleigh Tomahawk. It was better than my bike, in fact, it was better than any bike since it preceeded the Raleigh Grifter, which was the king of all bikes to me.
At this time, on a Saturday morning we'd watch World Of Sport, presented by the mallon streaked Dickie Davies and inbetween the bouts of the nations favourite sport, wrestling, they'd show Motocross. This looked so exciting to us but no were near as exciting as the sections of footage of Evel Knievel they showed every so often. We'd attach football cards to our bike frames with washing pegs so that the cards would strike the spokes of the wheel when we rode, thus emulating a motorbike sound, (did anyone else do this?) It wasn't long until we progressed and really began to copy the motocross bikes and stuntmen by building ramps.
We'd always be propping pieces of wood up against kerbs or bricks. We'd take it in turns to lie on the floor while all the kids in the Street lined up and jumped over you. When I say, take it in turns to lie down, what I really mean is, since I was the youngest I was always made to lie down or if a few people were required to lie down I was always placed as the last obstacle, I guess it was just confirming my pecking/social standing within the group. Just incase someone didn't clear the line up of young bodies only the least important would get hurt.
We'd spend hours jumping these crappy ramps, convinced we were all motorcycle stuntmen. One day in Alan Ross's back garden we really did start to copy the stuntmen, we began to line up an array of Tonka Toys; cars, trucks and buses. This was brilliant. It meant I got loads of 'defy defying' jumps over a large group of vehicles instead of being made to be an obstacle. Next thing you know Alan really upped the danger level and went into his garage, he emerged with a caged ferret and some caged gerbils, their cages were neatly placed in the line up. This was epic. There was now a real tinge of danger to life now as I pedalled my crap bike as fast as possible up to the unsturdy, crap, ramp. I was excited and fearful. I took off, hearing the 'clunk' of the wood and flew over everything in the, impressively huge, 5 foot long line up. I landed and rolled away down the garden. This was amazing, even the ferret seemed excited, perhaps knowing it had escaped being crushed by a 6 year old wannabe stuntman and not so much for my riding prowess. The more we jumped, the more we cleared the gap with ease, the more we added things to the obstacle line up, the more confident we got, the faster we went, the higher we went. even the caged creatures seemed to calm down and enjoy our increased jumping skills. It was so much fun. It was the essence of bike riding fun with your friends but then the enevitable happened. It was bound to eventually happen to someone. I crashed.
This was my first ever proper crash, I never imagined it would be the first of many through my life. I hit the ramp, and as I did I pulled up too much, not that a 6 year old has much strength, so I put it down to over confidence, but I saw my front wheel rise up before me. With no major concept of bike handling I just did as the great Evel did and just held on and then in true Evel style I realised I was, 'Going down with the bird.'
I somehow managed to clear all the stationary and live obstacles but as my backwheel touched down on terra firma the front wheel was still high up in the air, my feet were still firmly fixed on the pedals with all my puny body weight over behind the seat and that was the prelude to the body jarring impact as my backside graced the backwheel and propelled me into the chainstays and my 'boyhood' now becaming the unintended emergency brake. I immediately, quite literally, ground to a halt. I hurt and I was stunned. I'm sure the gerbils were laughing at this as I tried to be brave and not cry infront of my peers.
As a 6 year old your testicles aren't too much of a personal issue but anyhow getting your boyhood caught up in a bicycle frame isn't fun at any age.