BICYCLES

BICYCLES
When we weren’t playing baseball, we were riding our bikes. No, none of us had Schwinns. Those were for the rich kids who didn’t really have fun on their bikes, anyhow. They didn’t want to get them scratched. As far as we were concerned, what good was a bike if you couldn’t crash it once in a while? The bikes were sturdy, and if you had a pair of pliers, or two pair of pliers, and a screwdriver, you could fix almost anything that went wrong with your bike. A hand air pump was also helpful, unless you didn’t have a tube repair kit. Then the air pump didn’t matter. If you couldn’t plug the hole, the air wouldn’t stay in anyhow.

We rode our bicycles to baseball games. We rode our bicycles home from baseball games. We rode our bicycles around the base paths before and after baseball games. We played tag on our bicycles – we had to tag the other bike with our bike. That made for some interesting collisions, some on purpose and some not really on purpose. It was considered bad form to knock the other guy over when you tagged him. The coolest way to tag him was to catch him from behind, brush his rear tire with your front tire, and buzz on by. The dangerous part of this game occurred when we played it on the road that went through our hometown. It seemed that cars tended to use the road, too. They didn’t realize that it was really a paved bicycle playground. Somehow, none of us were ever hit by a car.

With the right tires on his bike, a boy could actually make the tires squeal when he stopped, and give a little “pip” if he spun when he took off. We thought it was a big deal. The tires that seemed to work best were the ones with a tread that looked like a chain of “8” going lengthwise. Of course, the tires squealed best on macadam that was smooth with tar. The rough pavement just wouldn’t squeal, and if a boy wasn’t careful with the sideways sliding stop, a tire could catch and flip with the bike on top and the boy providing the braking surface between the bike and the pavement.

I think every bike in Kantner when I was a young bike rider was a used bicycle, so there might have been a Schwinn under the several layers of paint most of our bikes had. We did what we could to make them look cool. Streamers from the ends of the handlebars were popular, a light on the front fender was good, and handlebars that bent so low you had to lean way over to reach the ends were the coolest. BUT, bells and baskets were not much in use, at least not among the guys. Some of the girls had them, but then they just rode their bikes; they didn’t play tag, or jump their bikes, or ride them through the woods. Everybody, at one time, had a bicycle that he had assembled from parts from several of his earlier bikes. We didn’t throw away old bikes; we kept them for spare parts.

Each of us became, to some extent, a bicycle mechanic. We all learned how to replace the “clutch spring” in the coaster brake, and we all learned how to make do when the “real” part couldn’t be found. Everyone could change a flat tube inside the tire in less than ten minutes. It took longer if the tube needed mended, because the glue had to dry before air could be put back in the tube. Alignment was always a problem because the rims tended to get a little out of round – well, not really out of round so much as wavy. The trick was to adjust the wheel so that it would just miss the frame on the left side and then just miss the frame on the right side. Of course, if the wheel wasn’t tightened enough, the alignment was ruined the first time you “pealed out.”

The stores sold something that could be fastened to the frame that would just touch the spokes so that the bicycle made a putting sound as it went down the road. Baseball cards to the rescue! There was always one card that was in every batch printed, so everyone usually had ten or fifteen cards of the same player. When fastened to the frame and just touching the spokes, a baseball card made the same noise as the store bought thing.

Occasionally, a bicycle would lose a front or rear fender because of a broken bracket or just plain rust. Riding in the rain became very unpopular with our mothers as rain (and mud) from the rear tire would fly off and muddy a stripe down the back of whatever shirt or jacket that was being worn. Since I had a paper route, my mother couldn’t tell me not to ride my bike, but she did encourage me to “fix that fender.” A missing front fender usually got quicker attention from us because as it threw off the water and mud, it would fling it up into our faces.

No discussion of bicycles of the late 1940s and early 1950s would be complete without mention of the chain guard. The chain guard had a most important job, not to guard the chain, but to guard the pant legs of bicycle riders. It covered the chain so it came between the pants leg and the chain, usually. If a brace wasn’t tight, the pants leg could sneak down behind the chain guard and get rubbed by the chain as it continued its merry way from the rear to the front sprocket. Chains were oiled to be sure they worked well. What little kid didn’t think that oil on anything mechanical was important? Of most importance to us, however, was the completely missing chain guard. Then the pants leg could get caught between the chain and the front sprocket, thereby pulling the right leg forward and usually causing a crash. Pant legs that got caught between the chain and the sprocket not only got greasy, they usually got torn. A sure sign in Kantner that someone’s chain guard was missing was the characteristic rolling up of only the right pants leg.

The bikes were not built, as today’s bicycles are, for stunt riding, or for mountain trails, or for riding up and down hills using different gears, or for speed, but they were built for fun. They were two wheels, a set of pedals, a handlebar, and a kid with a desire to ride and ride and ride. AND WE DID!