My Best Bicycle

The memory I have is probably from fifth or sixth grade to high school.

I had a Schwinn bike that had what looked like a gas tank where a motorcycle normally has one.

I remember it was red with white trim. Big fenders that curved or flared at the ends; lots of chrome; the chain guard was chromed.

It had a spring loaded book rack over the back fender. Lift one part, slide the books in and a spring held them in place.

The seat was giant and was really comfy for long rides. It sat on two chrome springs that looked like pine cones. For some reason I remember a chrome trim piece along the bottom of the seat.

The tires were white walled – very wide and had special inner tubes designed to prevent leaks. I think I only fixed one flat in all the years I rode it. I was so proud of the size – 26 inch I think – a grownups bike.

I remember ‘borrowing’ the chrome caps off the valve stems at a local car lot because they looked so cool on my bike.

I also remember buying some streamers to put in the end of the handle grips. For some reason I remember white handle grips with sparkles in them. They had cushy pads on top for comfort. The streamers were red and did not last very long.

I could jump that bike up on the highest curbs and do a sliding stop (ride fast, put my left leg near the ground then jam on the brake with my right foot and ‘lean’ towards the ground.

The back tire would leave a black mark and if done correctly my left knee would almost touch the ground as I was sliding but I would end up sitting on the bike upright at a full stop and a full 180 degree opposite of my approach direction.

I was good at them. But my favorite trick was a daredevil stunt that I practiced and practiced and practiced. I never once crashed.

Our street was sort of a dead end. To the east it ended in a T at the park. It continued on the other side of the park, four or five blocks away. From this T to the west our street ran downhill – not very steep but enough you could build up some speed coasting.

The ‘north-south’ T street actually ran down hill in both directions. We were just about the high point.

I would ride on the T street from the south towards our street. I could get going very fast on the 26 inch tires.

Four houses from our street I let go of the handlebars and rode no-handed (is that right?) and turned the bike around the corner and coasted faster and faster to our driveway where I would stop and calmly put my foot on the ground.

I never touched the handle bars (unless I didn’t make a good turn). I had curb feelers (look them up) on both the front and back fenders.

If the front feeler touched the curb on the right hand side of the street I was not going to make it and I would turn the trick into a slide to try again. If the rear feeler touched I was perfect.

As I got braver I would ‘turn’ into a double wide drive and go up on the sidewalk then turn back out to the street at the next double wide and stop right in front of our house putting my right foot on the curb AFTER I stopped.

I thought I was so cool – I wonder how stupid I looked practicing this over and over and over with my arms crossed and sometimes wiggling the front of the bike so bad it looked like there was NO way I could control it.

That bike always pulled to the right when I rode it no-handed on a flat street.

I remember not wanting to ride it anymore because it looked childish in my eyes. I was a ‘cool’ kid and had to walk every where until I got my driver’s license. Still had to walk because we only had one car.

That reminds me – my first car.