MY FIRST BICYCLE
When I was 7 years old I wanted a bicycle more than I wanted my next breath. My dad worked in a refinery and he and a friend of his went over to the fabricating shop and MADE me a bicycle. One inch tubular aluminum for the frame and handle bars. The absolute ugliest bicycle I'd ever seen.
I can't remember how big the wheels were but I'm thinkin' 26" and heavy duty with huge spokes. I had to have blocks of wood on the peddles in order to be able to ride it. It was pained a rough textured dull silver color.
Can you say CRESTFALLEN?
I had trouble riding it at first. Took me a year to grow into it. And for the year that I was trying to get used to it I was humiliated beyond description to be seen on it. But I wanted to ride so desperately that I rode it anyway.
But sometimes what seems like a desperately hopeless situation turns out to be your life's dream and better than you could have ever hope for. I became addicted to the feeling of cutting the wind with my face and the feeling (almost) of flight. I couldn't get enough. I went every where I could on it and I went as fast as I could peddle.
Eventually I grew enough to take the blocks off the peddles and my legs grew strong enough to generate some respectable speed. It had a "coaster brake" and I could lock up that back wheel and slide into 180 deg turn.
The neighborhood I grew up in was home to about 8 or 10 boys my age, give or take a year. We all had bicycles. Some had the "Western Flyer" of Shwinn types and some had the kind with the multiple speed and skinny wheels. We all enjoyed riding around in a "pack" and spent many a happy summer day in the saddle.
There was a place that we called "The Clay Pits that was about a half mile long and a quarter mile wide that was thick with trees and bushes and there were numerous trails through there. That was my favorite place.
By the time I was 10 years old Old Silver and I were the leader of the pack. It was the "pit bull" of the bunch and all the guys were jealous. It was clear that all the "power" I had came from old silver and not from me.
One thing we used to like to do was to go head to head towards each other and at the last minute lock up the back wheels and slide our back wheels into each other. Old Silver was the only bike in the pack that had all it's spokes and the back wheel wasn't bent. My dad started getting calls telling me to curb my beast or he'd have to pay for some bicycle repairs. That kind of put an end to the jousting but it was fun while it lasted.
That bicycle was my freedom for most of the years of my childhood. It allowed me a persona I'd never have had otherwise. It was my most precious possession. The memories of that time in my life are some of my favorites. I had bicycles on up into my adult life until about the age of 45 or so but I never had one like my old Silver. I never had the fun of my childhood again but I did enjoy bike riding in parks and at the San Jacinto Battle Grounds with the wife and kids when they were little.
Guess I'm done with bicycles now but I still miss it.....
When I was 7 years old I wanted a bicycle more than I wanted my next breath. My dad worked in a refinery and he and a friend of his went over to the fabricating shop and MADE me a bicycle. One inch tubular aluminum for the frame and handle bars. The absolute ugliest bicycle I'd ever seen.
I can't remember how big the wheels were but I'm thinkin' 26" and heavy duty with huge spokes. I had to have blocks of wood on the peddles in order to be able to ride it. It was pained a rough textured dull silver color.
Can you say CRESTFALLEN?
I had trouble riding it at first. Took me a year to grow into it. And for the year that I was trying to get used to it I was humiliated beyond description to be seen on it. But I wanted to ride so desperately that I rode it anyway.
But sometimes what seems like a desperately hopeless situation turns out to be your life's dream and better than you could have ever hope for. I became addicted to the feeling of cutting the wind with my face and the feeling (almost) of flight. I couldn't get enough. I went every where I could on it and I went as fast as I could peddle.
Eventually I grew enough to take the blocks off the peddles and my legs grew strong enough to generate some respectable speed. It had a "coaster brake" and I could lock up that back wheel and slide into 180 deg turn.
The neighborhood I grew up in was home to about 8 or 10 boys my age, give or take a year. We all had bicycles. Some had the "Western Flyer" of Shwinn types and some had the kind with the multiple speed and skinny wheels. We all enjoyed riding around in a "pack" and spent many a happy summer day in the saddle.
There was a place that we called "The Clay Pits that was about a half mile long and a quarter mile wide that was thick with trees and bushes and there were numerous trails through there. That was my favorite place.
By the time I was 10 years old Old Silver and I were the leader of the pack. It was the "pit bull" of the bunch and all the guys were jealous. It was clear that all the "power" I had came from old silver and not from me.
One thing we used to like to do was to go head to head towards each other and at the last minute lock up the back wheels and slide our back wheels into each other. Old Silver was the only bike in the pack that had all it's spokes and the back wheel wasn't bent. My dad started getting calls telling me to curb my beast or he'd have to pay for some bicycle repairs. That kind of put an end to the jousting but it was fun while it lasted.
That bicycle was my freedom for most of the years of my childhood. It allowed me a persona I'd never have had otherwise. It was my most precious possession. The memories of that time in my life are some of my favorites. I had bicycles on up into my adult life until about the age of 45 or so but I never had one like my old Silver. I never had the fun of my childhood again but I did enjoy bike riding in parks and at the San Jacinto Battle Grounds with the wife and kids when they were little.
Guess I'm done with bicycles now but I still miss it.....
