This Diamondback Strike Zone (mockingly dubbed "The Blue Bomber" by my friends) was my life for much of my teenage years.
I rode the crap out of this thing. I replaced pretty much every part on it a hundred times before it finally died.
It gave me my love of bikes, and I still miss it dearly. I actually get a little misty when I look at these pics of it.
Yes, I'm being serious. Above I can be seen doing a front yard (June of '88), and below I am rolling an elbow glide in
some sort of hideous bomber jacket and a "Life's a Beach" bones cap (December of '88). Rest in Piece, Blue Bomber.
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