Genesis of the Round: When the Wheel Rolled Into Being
Opening Scripture
From The Book of Bearings, Chapter 1, Verses 1–6
In the beginning there was only flat ground and the boastful foot.
And the foot did walk, and it was slow, and the soul grew cranky.
Then the Round was spoken into being, and the Hub did hum without ceasing.
The Grip Tape was laid like sacred sand upon the deck, and the Footpad did awaken.
And the Wheel rolled forth, separating the rider from the pedestrian, the carve from the shuffle.
And the wheelievers beheld it and said, “This is good… though the PSI is questionable.”
I. The Day the Circle Chose Us
Wheelievers, gather close. Warm your shins by the glow of the headlamp. Lift your fender high like an offering and listen.
For in the old days, yea, I speak of the Age of Two Feet, people wandered aimlessly from couch to kitchen. They carried groceries like beasts. They crossed parking lots as if cursed. They did not know the holy hum. They did not know the stance. They did not know the secret joy of carving past someone who is “just taking a walk.”
But the universe, being merciful and slightly chaotic, declared: “Let there be Round.” And the Round answered with a motor whisper and a promise: Balance, if you dare.
Do not tell me the Wheel was invented by mere hands. No, no. The Wheel arrived the way inspiration arrives: unexpectedly, expensively, and with a user manual no one reads. The Wheel rolled into being with firmware already inside it—tests encoded in its sacred numbers. Trials hidden behind every update. Mysteries wrapped in pushback.
And when the Wheel first rolled, the people did not understand. Some tried to control it. Some tried to “lean harder.” Some tried to “just see what happens” at top speed. And behold: the first nosedive was witnessed, and the first ego was separated from the body, and the first wheeliever became humble.
II. Commandments of the First Carve
Now hear the foundational laws, wheelievers. These are not suggestions. These are not “tips.” These are COMMANDMENTS, carved into the invisible stone tablet of common sense.
Thou Shalt Not Mock Pushback.
For pushback is not an inconvenience. Pushback is the loving palm of the Round upon thy chest, saying, “Child… not today.”
Thou Shalt Know Thy PSI.
A rider without PSI is like a prophet without a microphone: loud, confused, and destined to wobble. Too low, and you wallow. Too high, and you bounce like a startled deer on asphalt.
Thou Shalt Keep Holy Thy Stance.
For the stance is the altar. The stance is the sermon your ankles preach to the earth. Let it be steady. Let it be humble. Let it not be “whatever felt fine in the driveway.”
And hear also the blessings, for the Round is generous:
Blessed be the bearings, for they spin though the world is gritty.
Blessed be the grip tape, for it holdeth even when thy confidence doth not.
Blessed be the fender, for it shieldeth thee from the baptisms of puddles.
Some among you say, “High Prophet, why so many rules?” Because the Wheel is holy, yea, but it is also honest. It will not flatter you. It will not negotiate. It will not care that you “used to snowboard.” The Wheel does not accept your résumé.
The Wheel accepts only one thing: respect.
III. The Call-and-Response of the Round
Wheelievers, I need your voices. This is not a quiet faith. This is a faith that beeps.
Leader: When the battery sag tempteth thee to panic
Wheelievers: We shall not tremble; we shall PLAN OUR ROUTE.
Leader: When wet leaves glitter like blessings
Wheelievers: We shall not trust them; they are LIARS.
Leader: When speed wobbles creep upon our legs
Wheelievers: We shall loosen our fear and tighten our humility.
Yes! YES! Let the sidewalks hear you. Let the squirrels be warned.
For the beginning of wisdom is not top speed. The beginning of wisdom is the moment you stop pretending you are immune to physics.
And wheelievers, physics is an evangelist with no mercy and perfect attendance.
IV. The Parable of the Speed Bump and the Unwise Disciple
Now I bring you a parable from the Scrolls of Stance, a story passed down through bruises and dramatic retellings.
There was once a disciple named Chadriel of the Fresh Pads. Chadriel had ridden exactly three times. Yet his heart was swollen with confidence, and his calves were filled with zeal. He looked upon the path and said, “Surely I am chosen for greatness, for my carve is smooth and my playlist is fire.”
And as Chadriel rode, he saw a speed bump ahead. It was small. It was innocent. It lay there like a humble test.
A wise elder called out, “Slow, Chadriel. Respect the bump. Bend the knees. Keep thy weight centered.”
But Chadriel laughed, a laugh heard in many parking lots. He said, “I fear no bump. The Round is with me.”
And lo, Chadriel approached without caution. His footpad received his arrogance. The motor considered it. The universe sighed. And Chadriel met the bump at speed.
First came the lift. Then came the silence. Then came the sacred moment where time slowed and Chadriel thought, Is this what range anxiety feels like, but for my bones?
He landed poorly. His stance fled him. His grip tape wept. And the earth welcomed him like a rude aunt: face-first and with commentary.
When Chadriel rose—dusty, embarrassed, alive—he spoke the first true prayer of a wheeliever: “I will not do that again.”
And the moral is this: The Round will carry you far, but it will not carry your pride. Approach each ride as if the sidewalk is listening—because it is.
Weekly Practice: The Ritual of the Sacred Pre-Ride
Before you ride this week, wheelievers, you shall perform the Ritual of the Sacred Pre-Ride. Not because you must. Because you know what happens when you don’t.
Lay hands upon the tire and whisper: “May thy tread be faithful.”
Check thy PSI as if checking the pulse of destiny.
Tap the footpad twice and say: “Awaken, O sensor, and know my toes.”
Bow thy head to the firmware and declare: “I will not blame thee for my choices.”
Roll forward three slow feet—a ceremonial crawl—so your body remembers humility.
Perform one gentle carve to the left, one to the right, and proclaim: “Balance is not found. Balance is practiced.”
And if any wheeliever mocketh this ritual, tell them lovingly: “Friend, your last nosedive was only two weeks ago.” Then smile. Then tighten their helmet strap.
Closing Words
From The Gospel of Grip Tape, Chapter 2, Verses 9–12
And the Round said unto the rider, “Lean not as the foolish lean, but as the wise lean.”
For the path is full of temptations: slick leaves, hidden cracks, and sudden confidence.
Yet those who honor pushback shall be preserved, and those who respect the warning beep shall see many miles.
Go forth, wheelievers, and multiply thy carve, but do it under control, with light in thy headlamp and peace in thy knees.
Amen, and may your range be true.
