As a rule of thumb, when the first few words out of a strangers mouth are the words “death trap” I tend to shy away. I was picking up a single-speed bicycle for a ride with the Polar Rollers, a group of fixed gear cyclists, and the guy I was borrowing it from must have sensed my lack of grace and coordination.

“This thing is a death trap,” he said, giving me fair warning in case I happened to fall and die somewhere.

The Polar Rollers is a fluid group of people, largely male and under 30, with few things in common except an interest in these specialty, usually custom-made bikes — and appearance, most with ’staches, second-skin pants, flannel button-downs, Marlboros and skinny shoes.

Every Wednesday these cyclists meet at the In-N-Out Burger at PCH and Westminster at 9 p.m. to ride their bikes around Long Beach, occasionally stopping at bars around the city.

The Polar Rollers were started by a group of about 10 friends who dubbed themselves the BCK Crew (short for Back of the Class Kids). Among the frequent riders from BCK are Jay and Brandon, who often determine the routes the group will ride and work at Jones Bicycles on 2nd Street.

This year, the Polar Rollers have organized a race for road bikes to be held Easter Sunday called Bunny on a Stick where individuals or teams of two will begin racing at Mother’s Beach. There’s a $10 entry fee, and anyone with a track bike can enter.

Unlike other bikes, fixed gears are incredibly light, fast and dangerous, often with fiberglass or aluminum bodies, capable of speeds of 30-40 miles per hour and usually without brakes, technically illegal.

The bike I happened to be riding a few nights later would be a vintage steel frame, 1970s-ish, banana yellow Schwinn Varsity with matching yellow handlebar grips and thin Velocity tires. And, thankfully, brakes albeit ones that hardly touched the tire they were wrapped around. In cycling parlance, I was riding a single-speed bike.

Unlike its close brother, both are considered “road” or “track” bikes, the single-speed bike has manual brakes, while the fixed gear is fixed to the rear tire, like a beach cruiser. Unlike the beach cruiser, though, it doesn’t stop immediately when riders peddle backwards, it skids and the rider coasts to a stop.

Part of the appeal of the fixed gear/road bike culture is customizing a bike, and the options seem endless. Handlebars, axles, bike frames, chains, pedals, chainring bolts and hubs, to name a few, are some of the parts riders can change to customize their bike. It’s a very detailed, nuanced hobby. The hobby isn’t cheap either. Some of the newer, fancier road bikes can cost about $2,000 and parts range in price.

When I first rode with the Polar Rollers, I eased up to the group on the unfamiliar bike with the appearance of a newborn calf learning to walk: awkward and shaky. The Polar Rollers is diverse, composed of married folks, people with kids, software employees, free spirits with ragged beards and those with a Modge Podge of vintage styles (a mullet, a ’70s tee and tight pants) and the appearances and styles of bikes are equally as diverse.

On the night I met with the group, the Polar Rollers was composed largely of newbies from nearby areas. To my surprise, I was greeted like a familiar friend. The road bike community is one of a common culture and purpose. Those who bike, are met warmly.

While some of the more seasoned bikers road around the parking lot, doing wheelies, others watched, compared parts and chatted. We left the lot around 9:30, and headed down to Seal Beach, then travelled to Ocean Boulevard in the residential area and back to Albertsons (I use the term “we” lightly. I, myself, was only able to travel part of that distance).

After leaving the In-N-Out parking lot, the group sped off and within seconds was out of sight. Crossing the unlit bridge between Long Beach and Seal Beach ended up being one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. Small potholes were barely visible, but with poor biking lanes and fast cars, were unavoidable. Each time I rode over a small, deep pothole I felt the bike nearly pitch into the speeding traffic.

The group traveled down to Ocean Boulevard, through the residential streets. When I saw them, they were passing Main Street for the second time, just as I was going up it for the first. I ended up meeting a nice straggler named Adam, whose tire had burst, and walked with him to the Albertson’s on Second Street, where most of the bikers had been for a quite a while (I was glad to be walking).

There was a brief repair session in the parking lot for other bikes whose tires had lost air or needed adjusting, and then the Polar Rollers found a flat surface to play “foot down,” a game where bikers bike in a tight circle; the last person to put his or her foot down is the winner. I considered it a miracle that I could stay on the bike while it was moving, so I took my place with the bikers who formed the circle surrounding the players.

After foot down, bikers played a game of “track stop,” where they try to stay on their bikes, motionless and gradually take off each thing keeping the bike balanced: first a hand, then another, then a foot is placed on the front wheel. This I tried, but fell over before the clock had even started.

The group went on to the Red Room, but the slightly hilly terrain was too much for my insecure brakes, and I decided to call it a day. When I finally got back, one of the bright yellow handlebar grips was as dark as the dirt I repeatedly fell in (sorry, José) and I was exhausted from walking the steel bike home (at this point, I was too scared to get back on it).

Despite getting lost and repeatedly falling, the experience was actually OK. I met some interesting people, who, for the most part, were pretty nice and inclusive. I was never treated like an outsider infiltrating an exclusive club. The only time I felt like I didn’t belong was when my biking deficiencies were made painfully obvious — which actually was most of the time.

After the bruises and cuts on my ankles and hands have healed, and the necessary reconstructive surgery has been performed on my chuckerella I might consider riding with them again, maybe even using a fixed gear — but probably not.

BUNNY ON A STICK MOTHER’S BEACH PARKING LOT | LONG BEACH 90803 | GMAP-PEDOMETER.COM/?R=1650765 | CONTESTANTS SHOULD SHOW UP AT 10 A.M., RACE BEGINS AT 11 A.M. MARCH 23

Tags: bicycle, Bunny on a stick, cycling, cyclists, fixed gear bike, In-N-Out, Long Beach, Polar Rollers, Schwinn