We spent a lot of time playing sports and exploring the woods, but I always had a thing for wheels. In my baby book, there’s a note that my Uncle Sam and Aunt Kathy gave me a red wagon on my first Christmas, so that may have been my first set of wheels. I don’t remember that Christmas, but I do remember a wagon. We had one with removable sideboards that you could really load up with stuff. I suspect I upgraded to a tricycle, but I don’t remember that either. The bicycles that came later I remember well. In those days, you could ride on Jonesboro Road without too much danger, and nearby dirt roads were even safer. On a dirt road, you could see a red cloud of dust rising in the distance before you could hear a vehicle coming.
The bikes we had would look ridiculous by today’s standards. We thought the banana seats and crazy handlebars of the spyder bikes were cool, and the bikes became cooler if you taped a light cardboard tab to the frame, so the spokes hit it and made it sound like a motor.
The bicycle gave us a little more ability to travel longer distances and maybe too much freedom. The campground just past Mount Olive Church was a KOA in those days. If you had a $1, you could go there for the day and enjoy their pool. We had been told that we couldn’t go there without an adult, but we decided that we could. We rode our bikes over there, paid our dollars, and had a great time. Of course, we got caught. I’m sure we were spanked, and we never ventured out on that trip again.
As a runner, you get a feel for hills better than someone who just drives through an area. But, the impact seems to be even more significant on a bicycle. Ernest Hemingway said, “It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you heave to sweat up the hills and can coast down them.” We knew that if you turned north on Chambers Road and climbed that hill, you could coast all the way to the bridge over Walnut Creek. A right turn and up the slight hill past Papa’s house, and you could coast all the way to Mr. Aubrey Richardson’s place. We knew our territory.
When I was at college in Athens, Cheryl and I only had one car, and she needed it for work, so I was either on foot or stuck riding busses for a while. Our apartment in married housing was about 3 miles from the furthest buildings on the north campus, so it could be tough to get around. I had qualified for a student loan that I didn’t need. So, I picked up the loan check and bought myself a bicycle. Getting around campus on a bike was more manageable than in a car, and you could park a bike anywhere. The only time I preferred a car was when it was raining.
After college, I would go many years without riding a bike. I picked it up again in 2009 when my son Mark and I decided to take the Muddy Spokes Challenge in Georgia State Parks. We rode the prescribed trails in 11 parks all over the state, and I got reacquainted with the joys of the bicycle.
Do kids still ride bikes? I know they can’t do it with the same freedom we had, and that’s a shame. Maybe it isn’t as stimulating as the sights and sounds offered by today’s video games, and perhaps it takes too much work, but it did offer something a video game cannot duplicate. It was real.