Bicycles and Me
The hill was steep and curvy as the bicycle and I headed for a crash, but that is later in my story. Learning to ride a bicycle became important to me when I was about eight years old. A neighbor boy had one and he let me practice on it. It was a boy bicycle with a bar across it. I could barely get my short leg over the bar, but I managed it. I finally got the hang of steering it pretty good by practicing on a narrow path by my house. We moved from there to another area of town, so that ended my first experience of learning how to ride a bicycle.
My mother’s best friend had a son and he let me use his bicycle. I now learned how to pedal and steer it, but I didn’t know how to apply the brakes to stop it. One day I became stupidly brave while riding around the neighborhood. I decided to venture down Drake road, a very steep and curvy road that wound down around the Deschutes river in Bend, Oregon. Big mistake!
The beginning of my downhill ride was fun until the bicycle excelled to a rapid speed. Panic now set in. Since I didn’t know how to apply the brakes I held onto the handlebars with both hands while I stretched out on my stomach and my feet in the air. Oh, my Gawd! Another curve and a cement wall straight ahead. CRASH! I didn’t make the curve and the bicycle crumbled into a tangled mess. Somehow I came out in one piece with no injuries. What a miracle. The young man lost his bicycle that day, but he still remained my friend.
The story of my bicycle learning continued. One day I was sitting on a bicycle that was parked on it’s stand. It was on a porch. I wasn’t allowed to borrow one from anyone again, but I could sit on this one and practice pedaling. While I was busy doing this, my foot slipped backwards off the pedal, and the wheels stopped. I finally found the answer to using the brakes!
My dream was to own a bicycle of my own, one made for a girl. I guess the reason girl’s bicycles didn’t have a bar across the center was probably because girls wore dresses back then. Anyway, my dream came true. My dad came to town in his old car. He parked it behind a bar. He told me to go out to his car and look inside for a surprise. There inside that old car was a girl’s blue and white bicycle all folded up and squeezed inside. It was the most beautiful bicycle I’d ever seen and it was mine. Life took on a whole new meaning for me, now that I had wheels and places to explore. This bicycle had a compartment under the handlebars that held all that was needed to repair a flat tire. Since I put many miles on that bike I used a lot of patches.
There wasn’t a spot within seven miles of Bend, Oregon that I hadn’t explored diligently. I remember riding, mostly downhill, to a place at the river where many gathered to swim. Pushing that bike back up hill seven miles was tough, but I was young and healthy then.
There’s a large hill in Bend called Pilot Butte. Once my girlfriend, Patsy Wickersham and I, decided to push our bicycles straight up the hill to the top. We didn’t use the road that curved around that little mountain where cars drove. We went for the task and though it was difficult we made it. We had a ball riding our bikes down the winding road though. Of course I knew how to use the brakes this time! Every time I pass Pilot Butte to this day I remember that very special time.
Then came the day of growing up and out of that precious bicycle. It was during the II World War time and I was now age thirteen. My mother knew I was planning to sell it to my girlfriend’s dad for her brother. It didn’t happen though. My mother informed me one day, after I returned from school, that she had sold it to a lady whose husband was in the Army and it had been shipped out that very day. She was paid $25.00 for it. I was terribly angry with her and I never saw a penny of the money either.
Thoughts of that priceless bicycle still linger in my thoughts quite often. It gave me freedom, entertainment, joy, experiences and now my memories. I so wish I had a picture of it. The only thing I had, that was anywhere near to replacing it, was my first car. Now, that is another story, so stay tuned!