Back to the Fun

It was a great morning, so I took the bike out for a ride. It’s hand built and made in America, not many of those around. And guess what, it ain’t a Harley! Gotcha didn’t I. It’s a Cannondale, which alas, has moved production to Taiwan, another American Beauty leaving us. It makes it all that much sweeter to ride.


My wife and I are going to ride in the El Tour de Tucson this year, we registered today for the 66 mile event. With the ride date being just two months off I realized that it is time to get on the bike and go.

Bike riding has always been a blast for me. I remember the first one, with training wheels. Once they came off dad would give me a push down the sidewalk and away I’d go, for a few feet. But the distance got longer, and the wobbling got less. Soon I was riding.

When we moved from Chicago out to the suburbs it was time for a new bike. I was bigger and older (5th grade), and the distances were greater. That one was a red bike from Sears, just a plain old cruiser, but we put Ape Hangers on it. This was the bike that I used to ride down Nike Hill. Nike Hill was in the prairie behind us. One side you’d push your bike up, and the other side was a drop off. You guessed it, the thrill was to try and ride all the way down the drop off. I don’t know if any of us ever made it down the drop all the way to the bottom, but we had a blast trying. Nike Hill was one of the main reasons we learned to work on our bikes.

Then there was the blue Schwinn Stingray. Five speed, banana seat, gear shifter on the frame, hand brakes, this one was a ripper, and I swear I put thousands of miles on it. We made parachutes for them, a cigar box strapped to the back of the seat, large plastic garbage bag inside rigged up with lines. You’d pull the lid of the box open and the bag would shoot out, well, all out, and inflate. It didn’t stop or even slow us down, but we felt like we were driving dragsters down US 30, with Big Daddy Don Garlitz….BRING YOUR CAMERAS!

It could be a dirt bike too. There was a park close by, The Isaac Walton League Park. It was great, lakes, trails and woods, all in Homewood Illinois. We’d grab some sandwiches, ride the trails, fish for bluegill, and it was all thanks to our trusty machines. Sometimes we were the Rat Patrol, sometimes Tom Sawyer.

Bikes took me all over the place, both in my imagination and on the streets and trails. I forgot that and it became work for a few years. It was still fun, but it became more about the miles, time, endurance, equipment. I’ve done a century, and am glad, and I’m excited about doing a big ride again. But this morning I was a kid on a bike. It’s gotta stay fun.