You older readers may want to sit down and pop an extra nitro pill. I have exciting news.

Thanks to Jim David, Spokane may soon be recognized as the home of the world's longest bicycle skid mark.

Only one obstacle remains before signs can go up proclaiming our status as Washington's skid mark capital.

The folks who publis the "Guinness Book of World Records" must officially recognize David's Tuesday evening deed on the Spokane Raceway Park dragstrip.

Wearing stretchy Lycra and an aerodynamic helmet that made him resemble the offspring of a praying mantis, David sprinted hard before locking the back brake on his lightweight Giant road bike.

With the wind pushing his back, David left a skinny trail of rubber that measured a few inches over 425 feet. Thirty minutes later, he repeated the act, this time skidding against the wind for nearly 250 feet.

"This is bigger than Expo '74," David said, his tongue firmly in his cheek.

The 40-year-old insurance and securities agent would rather not be known as Mr. Skid Mark.

But "You can call me Mr. Super Skid," he said.

David plans to submit his two-skid average of 337.54 feet in hopes that Guinness will establish a new bicycle skid mark category with you know who as its first record holder.

Speaking for every lawyer looking for a fast buck in this town, I think it's safe to say that there will be lawsuit hell to pay should David be rejected.

After all, Guinness recognizes the longest skid mark made by a car.

There are obvious questions, of course, about someone who considers skidding a proper way to leave a mark upon society.

But according to his wife, Holly, David is not insane. He is a loving father of two, Cassie, 9, and Marc, 7.

He's just "kind of an exhibitionist," she said.

The poor woman is probably thanking God that her hubby didn't decide to go after, say, the world prune-eating record.

But there was little chance of that. David's skidding obsession dates back to the moment he hopped on his first bike as a kid.

While friends popped wheelies, David found pure rapture in seeing how much rubber he could lay down.

"Some people are violin virtuosos. Some people are scientists or philosophers," David said. "I skid."

As time went on and tires wore out, he perfected his slippery art. A fit and accomplished rider, David logs about 120 miles a week on his bike.

He can lecture like a college prof on which tires are better at holding up under the grind. Once while speeding down a steep hill, David slammed on the brakes and left a skid mark 1,100 feet long.

"He'll go through 50 or 60 tires a year," says Tim Arnold, owner of Bicycle Butler.

As you might guess, a skidmeister's worst enemy is the blowout.

As David says in the videotaped proposal he sent Guinness (immodestly titled, "Jim David - American Hero?") there is always the danger "of losing it all."

Although a veteran skidder, David said he decided to set a record when he heard a Guinness representative interviewed on a KXLY-AM radio show.

David contacted Guinness. The company wrote back that it was interested, providing David's skid be continuous and on a flat surface.

The motivation for Tuesday's stunt was simple: "I always wanted to be in a coffee table book," David said.

So what does it take to ride this skid road?

According to David there's really no secret. The trick is mainly learning through practice how to control a bike once the brake locks and the rear wheel starts slip-sliding away.

"I've blown more tires than practically anybody on the planet, but what price foctory?" Mtr. Super skid says. "We're all good at something. This is just what I've been blessed with."

- Doug Clark, Spokesman-Review