Peddle, Peddle, Peddle

Peddle, Peddle, Peddle

Pedal, Pedal, Pedal Bycycl, Bicicl, Biclyse, nuts I can’t remember how to spell Bicycle. I can’t have one until I can spell it. That’s right! Dad said he would buy me a Bicycle when I learned how to spell it. So I was about 5 or 6 years old before I had my first Bike. They didn’t have training wheels in those days so Dad ran beside me holding the bike until I got going and then letting go as I zigzagged down the drive way. It took me several days to learn to ride it but after that I was off and riding. I rode my bike to school every day and parked it with about 100 others in back of the school. I never worried about someone stealing it. I worried about finding it in that pile of bikes awaiting us after school. My friend Darrell and I rode our bikes all over town. We rode downtown to the movies at the Arcade, Grand, Midland and Auditorium theaters. All of them were within a block of one another on the square. We rode our bikes to the Advocate, the local newspaper, where Darrell’s father worked as a Linotype operator and to The Burke Golf Company in the east end of town where my dad worked. I spent many hours on my bike learning to ride with no hands on the steering handles. I once road all the way from downtown to our home at 389 Woods Avenue without putting my hands on the handles. Darrell and I would often pack a lunch and soft drinks early in the morning and go on an all day bicycle trip. Frequently we would ride all the way to St. Louisville and head east over the hills to Rt. 79 at Wilkins corners where we would stop at the store there and buy an ice cream bar before heading south back into town. Skinned knees and hands were common for us after a fall or two but we never had a serious accident. One time on just such a trip we were nearly to St. Louisville on a gravel road when we were passed by a speeding emergency vehicle with it’s siren wailing as it passed. We could see a huge column of black smoke rising…


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