Bearing Free-Spin

I jogged out past the front gate and spotted an inverted skateboard resting on the sidewalk curb, all four urethane wheels pointing at the sky. That gave me direct access to the running gear. I scrambled onto the gritty black grip tape, stepped up to the front truck, and hooked both curved hands around the edge of the red wheel. One sharp, downward pull sent it whipping into a whisper-quiet blur. It hummed like a miniature turbine, spinning dead true without a hint of wobble. I leaned back against the cast aluminum hanger to watch the red ring spin down to a clean stop. That is precision hardware.