I cut wings out of green construction paper. The wings were eleven inches long and eight and a half inches wide at the base. They were triangles and when I taped them to my bike I had them point slightly upwards. I used my dad’s duct tape to keep them on. I made my engine out of a battery. There were no wires, no instruments, or fuel. I eliminated all unnecessary weight. The runway ran parallel to the street directly in front of my house. The landing strip would be determined once I was in the air. I never stopped pedaling after I was unable to take flight. I ripped off the wings without stopping my bike. I rode around the neighborhood for fifteen minutes afterward. No one ever talked about it. That was the last time I ever attempted to fly. That was the closest I’ve ever come to building a manned aircraft.