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bike wank, part 0
Mar. 31st, 2006 11:37 pmOkay, it's been something like 5 weeks since I've posted, and I'm going to be talking about bikes. Furthermore, the next several posts are going to be about my bikes, because a) I have (*cough*) six bikes, and b) I've been obsessing about my upcoming trip, so bikes are rather on my mind. You've been warned.
But before I start the gallery of bikes, for the sake of completeness, there are the pre-historic bikes.
i. Some kind of 50's or 60's vintage single-speed, coaster brake bike, which my parents trash-picked from the dump. Really. I don't remember anything about the bike itself (it might have been red, or not), but I was riding it to school by second grade (1971).
I don't know about where you live, but here and now kids don't ride bikes to school, especially in elementary school. Hardly any of them even walk to school, and when they do, I always see the parents walking them to school. We're half a mile from the public elementary school, but the neighbors' kids take the bus - the bus! to go half a mile! When my brother was in second grade, he was in charge of walking me to kindergarten. By the time I was his age, I was on my own, baby.
I've heard from other folks in other school districts that the kids are Not Allowed to come and go on their own - that they only be released to parents or bus drivers. I don't know if that's the norm, but that's really sad. [In the spirit of full disclosure, I drive Kylie to school, but it's 4 miles from the house, and on my way to work (which is 30 miles, too far for me to bike more than occasionally).]
Anyway, that was then, that was the bike I learned to ride on. I doubt any pictures of it exist.
ii. Raleigh Colt 3-speed, circa 1970, dark green. I got this around 7th grade (1976). It was my introduction to shifting and hand-brakes, and I nearly died on it more than once. It was heavy and klunky and underpowered by almost anyone's standards now, but I loved it like no other bike before or since.
It was also the only bike that's ever been stolen from me. It was locked to a chain-link fence behind the high school, so it would have been Saturday marching band practice or something, around 9th grade. Anyway, it was gone when was done with whatever I was doing, and I never got it back. It was broad daylight, it was locked, it was registered with the police (something I've never bothered to do since then), and I never got it back.
iii. The orange beasticle - my first 10-speed. This was the replacement for the 3-speed, and it couldn't be more different. Oh, they were both heavy cheap lugged steel, but this was older, cruftier, and orange - theft-deterrent orange. Nonetheless, this was the bike of my high school and college years, my faithful steed, my transport around town (and around the county) at all hours of the day and night.
There was a summer in college when I was living in Sunderland and cooking in Northampton, and biked 15 miles down every afternoon, and 15 miles back every night after midnight - with no helmet or light, of course. I got my first bike helmet as a wedding present, from a recent housemate who witnessed me biking around Camberville at night with no Protection. It's a wonder any of us survived to procreate, but somehow it happened.
The beasticle left me in the mid-90's, in a Saturn (the car dealer) program called Cycle Recycle - something like Bikes Not Bombs, where they collected old bikes, fixed them up, and gave them to unsuspecting kids. I traded my bike for a T-shirt. And I can't feel bad about it. Because I was already on my way to...
Next time: the Gallery of Bikes
But before I start the gallery of bikes, for the sake of completeness, there are the pre-historic bikes.
i. Some kind of 50's or 60's vintage single-speed, coaster brake bike, which my parents trash-picked from the dump. Really. I don't remember anything about the bike itself (it might have been red, or not), but I was riding it to school by second grade (1971).
I don't know about where you live, but here and now kids don't ride bikes to school, especially in elementary school. Hardly any of them even walk to school, and when they do, I always see the parents walking them to school. We're half a mile from the public elementary school, but the neighbors' kids take the bus - the bus! to go half a mile! When my brother was in second grade, he was in charge of walking me to kindergarten. By the time I was his age, I was on my own, baby.
I've heard from other folks in other school districts that the kids are Not Allowed to come and go on their own - that they only be released to parents or bus drivers. I don't know if that's the norm, but that's really sad. [In the spirit of full disclosure, I drive Kylie to school, but it's 4 miles from the house, and on my way to work (which is 30 miles, too far for me to bike more than occasionally).]
Anyway, that was then, that was the bike I learned to ride on. I doubt any pictures of it exist.
ii. Raleigh Colt 3-speed, circa 1970, dark green. I got this around 7th grade (1976). It was my introduction to shifting and hand-brakes, and I nearly died on it more than once. It was heavy and klunky and underpowered by almost anyone's standards now, but I loved it like no other bike before or since.
It was also the only bike that's ever been stolen from me. It was locked to a chain-link fence behind the high school, so it would have been Saturday marching band practice or something, around 9th grade. Anyway, it was gone when was done with whatever I was doing, and I never got it back. It was broad daylight, it was locked, it was registered with the police (something I've never bothered to do since then), and I never got it back.
iii. The orange beasticle - my first 10-speed. This was the replacement for the 3-speed, and it couldn't be more different. Oh, they were both heavy cheap lugged steel, but this was older, cruftier, and orange - theft-deterrent orange. Nonetheless, this was the bike of my high school and college years, my faithful steed, my transport around town (and around the county) at all hours of the day and night.
There was a summer in college when I was living in Sunderland and cooking in Northampton, and biked 15 miles down every afternoon, and 15 miles back every night after midnight - with no helmet or light, of course. I got my first bike helmet as a wedding present, from a recent housemate who witnessed me biking around Camberville at night with no Protection. It's a wonder any of us survived to procreate, but somehow it happened.
The beasticle left me in the mid-90's, in a Saturn (the car dealer) program called Cycle Recycle - something like Bikes Not Bombs, where they collected old bikes, fixed them up, and gave them to unsuspecting kids. I traded my bike for a T-shirt. And I can't feel bad about it. Because I was already on my way to...
Next time: the Gallery of Bikes
