When I was a kid we all rode "stingray" style 20" bicycles as that was all there was besides the 10-speed racers we got when we got older and taller. We lived out in the country and rode and raced them anywhere we could.
We built ramps with whatever boards we could find laying around and cinder-blocks, or we found natural jumps over culverts etc..
As the summer wore on the jumps got higher and higher. When we found or made a new jump everybody in the neighborhood had to jump it or they became an outcast sissy until they did. So you did the jump no matter what your skill level or how scared you were. If you crashed and burned nobody cared as long as you gave it an honest try and showed you had balls
I broke the frame on my stingray, broke the seat in half, smashed the speedo off, bent the handlebars and the cranks and rims. We just patched them back together the best we could and rode them again.