Customer Reviews

Radio Flyer Classic Red Tricycle 12inch

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

We bought a shiny red Radio Flyer for our grandson Nathan's second birthday and I was immediately impressed by the quality and finish of the product when I got it out of the box and assembled it. Unlike flat packed furniture all the bits were there and they fitted together perfectly to make a reassuringly heavy and robust trike that will last him for years to come without ever going out of fashion.
The only drawback is that he can't quite get both feet on the pedals just yet but he is happy to scoot round the house - if it ever stops snowing we will be able to take it outside for a proper road test!

Absolutely thrilled with this item. I bought two tricycles and they were delivered promptly, were easy to assemble and are very sturdy and well manufactured. I have bought a large red waggon in this range and am abig fan of anything that is from the Radio Flyer range.

What my Radio Flyer tricycle has done for me it can do for you. The good life begins on this fine chariot.

Years back, in the twilight in early June, she was there. Her brunette tresses flowed like chocolate waterfalls, and her smile shone like diamonds glinting at dusk. Her name was Nancy. Her game was Hopscotch. She played hard, she played mean. And she was playing it on the sidewalk in front of my house. Her bike was parked with ardency next to her, and she wanted to ride.

With nothing but romance on my mind, I climbed quickly onto the shining hard seat. I took off down the driveway, squeezing tight the tough plastic hand grips. The brilliant red of my three-wheeled dream entranced her, like it did all girls. Wind grazed my face as I fearlessly rode, and tassels streamed back, blurring in my passionate speed. Onlookers gaped in awe, seeing me charge with abandon on such a fine vehicle as this. Three airless rubber tires grabbed the black tar, and balanced me from treacherous turns -- nothing could stop me. I pedaled rough, peeling toward her, the femme fatale of the preschool.

Nancy tossed aside her chalk. With a smile, she knew why I was there. She mounted her steel steed, and together on our Radio Flyer tricycles we met the sunset and her father, who bought us ice cream.

--Brockeim