Hell's Cherubim

Shawn Moran, arms scratched and face caked with dust, wheeled his bike into the pits and cut his engine. He had taken a second and two thirds in races last week at Indian Dunes Park in Valencia, Calif. It had been one of his better days. "Yeah, I did O.K.," he admitted, removing his helmet painted with four-leaf clovers and the motto: "Get it on, Shawn." But he was tired and not very talkative. Perhaps it was because he is only eight years old.

Shawn is a minibiker, one of the thousands of American kids who in the past two years have embraced half-size (or even smaller) motorcycles, the replacement for the tricycle in the age of opulence. Recession or no, minibikes seem to be all over, but nowhere are they more visible than in Los Angeles. There, hundreds of youngsters race every week under auspices of the three local minibike associations; there are flat-track races, others with jumps built in and even something called "motocross" (a cross-country scramble). From a distance, the riders are perfect replicas of grownup cyclists. They wear leather pants and jackets, helmets, kidney belts and boots, just like the Hell's Angels. Their shirts advertise the various bike makes, including Honda, Yamaha and Suzuki.

Beefed-Up Lawnmowers. Only up close do spectators realize that everything is miniaturized. The bikes themselves, ranging from 2 h.p. to 6 h.p., can race as fast as 45 m.p.h. and sell for from $125 to $350. Although Japanese models dominate the market, there are plenty of domestic brands as well --about 50 manufacturers in all. Since 1967, when the craze began, more than 2,000,000 minibikes have been sold. "It's like the Hula-Hoop craze," says Alfred Schiff, a cycle dealer in Vienna, Va., "and they're nothing more than beefed-up lawnmowers on wheels."

Schiff has a point. The minibikes have no fenders, lights or horns and thus do not qualify for motor-vehicle registration. It is illegal to ride them on public streets in most communities. "You don't have any protection," says New York City Patrolman Peter Kani. "These bikes can't pass any kind of inspection in this state. Most kids don't even wear helmets when they drive them. That's why when they are injured--and many are--it's usually serious." Kani speaks from tragic experience. His 14-year-old son, Michael, was fatally injured last June in a minibike accident.

Regulated Tracks. Despite the dangers, the tiny cycles hold an undeniable fascination for youngsters. Outlawing the street use of minibikes has made little difference; it is legal to drive them in backyards and driveways, and few kids can withstand the temptation to keep on going into the streets.

One answer is to build private, regulated tracks. In Mount Vernon, N.Y., 115 members of the local minibike club ride legally for two hours every Sunday on the city's own track. Each rider must be accompanied by a parent or guardian, must have his bike inspected and must wear a helmet and goggles.

No one knows where it will all end. In Southern California, four-year-old Derek Bland gives expert demonstrations on his 50-cc. Honda. Wearing his silver crash helmet and silver boots, he takes off down his driveway at 12 m.p.h., leans, sticks out a foot expertly to whip his bike around and roars back to his starting point. "I'm too good at this," he says. "You should see me go over a jump. I can do wheelies too." Derek started out on a mini-minibike called the Indian, but quickly became bored. For one thing, it could not go fast enough. For another, it had training wheels.

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