A History of my bikes

Why might anyone want to write a history about their bikes? We human beings are a strange lot because form some of the strangest bonds and connections with things, other living creatures, and some weird stuff I would rather not go into. Some people are animal lovers while many others form an almost symbiotic relationship with their cars, motorcyles, toys,clothes,hats,technology,shoes,job,funiture,house,cooking utensils,art, etc. Did I leave anything out?...I never intended to develop a "special" relationship with bikes, it just kind of happened out of necessity. My father died when I was in the sixth grade and my mom didn't drive and actually never learned so it was huff and puff around town on a bike or stay home and watch our three channel magnavox color t.v. I chose to huff and puff it rather than stay home with my mom 24/7. It was a teenage hormone thing I suspect. I've owned alot of bikes in my day but the first bike I reminder was the American Eagle powder puff blue state of the art ten speed I bought for 120 dollars during my eighth grade year. My mom couldn't afford that kind of money for a new bike but I was able to purchase the bike only after we agreed to not press charges on a neighbor kid who broke into our garage and stole my bike if his parents agreed to buy me a new bike. The deal was sealed and off I rode showing off my new bike to all my friends. During my high school years I rode my bike everywhere and was not afraid to ride long distances across town in traffic oftentimes and looking back it was pretty dangerous riding my bike across town but my options for transportation were limited and I really hated riding the public bus.

In 1976 my relationship with my bike began to change after I fell head over heals with a girl. For three months I would ride my bike to visit her and her family but that gets old after awhile so I decided if this relationship had any chance of making it to the next level I would have to learn how to drive and get a car, and I did. My bike spent the next four years in seclusion in my garage until it was time again to renew my relationship with my bike…

..fast forward to 1980……In 1980 I moved to Oregon to go to school and I could no longer afford the luxury of owning a car so I dusted off the cobwebs of my bike in the garage, loaded her into my roommates V.W. bug and headed down the road to Corvallis Oregon where my bike and I would attempt to renew our estranged relationship. These were not fond years for my bikes and I because of the weather in Oregon. Let’s just say the rumors about it raining, and raining, and raining, and raining, are all true. I rode my bike in the rain to school, I rode my bike in the rain to work, I rode my bike in the rain to go to the store, and on and on and on. I don’t think my bikes particularly minded that much but I sure got sick and tired of riding in an almost freezing rain storms on a regular basis in winter at two o’clock in the morning on my way home from work….and….after two years it was back in the garage for my bike after I was able to save up enough money for a VW bug….

.fast forward to 1984…..I got married in September in 1984 and my new wife and I could not afford to own two cars so I pulled the bike out of the garage for a second tour of duty and this time the relationship would blossom. In 1984 I had moved back to Bakersfield where the weather is very kind to bikes and their riders. It seldom rains here and except for the heat during the summer months it’s not too bad, except for the terrible air quality. During the first three years of my marriage I rode my bike to college or work almost every day. I figure I averaged about 20 miles a day plus or minus a couple of miles and these were special times between my bikes and I considering we spent so much time together.I didn’t particularly like having to ride my bike everywhere because it was time consuming, tiring, and a pain in the butt from all the riding, but it did keep me in tip top condition for the first three of my marriage. After I graduated, went to work full time, and started raising my two son’s it was all downhill in the keeping lean and mean department……

fast forward to 1997….Once I started my teaching career in 1987 we were able to get another car so the bike went back into the garage for the next ten years. I did get out and ride from time to time just to keep the relationship from completely dying but my life during these years was consumed with work and family obligations for the most part until 1997 when a new chapter of romance between my bikes and I would began…. In the summer of 1997 I walked into a bike shop in Bakersfield and rode around the parking lot at the bicycle shop on a red Cannondale Mountain bike. It was love at first site and ride. Up until 1997 I had only owned ten speed bikes and therefore never knew how comfortable and powerful feeling a mountain bike could be. The bike was rather expensive but after making sacrifices for my wife and family for over a decade I decided it was time I splurged a little money on myself. My life has never been the same. During the summer of 1997 I went crazy riding my new bike around the foothills outside of Bakersfield. It was like being born again….literally….I had so much fun riding up and down the hills and my confidence as a mountain bike rider grew leaps and bounds during that summer but that would all change one year later while on vacation in Redwood National Park and where my relationship with bikes would take a turn for the worst……

It was a cool morning on August 9th when I left Elk Prairie Campground by myself for a ride through the redwood forest. The mountain bike trail which leaves from the Campground will absolutely take your breathe away. The first Jurassic Park movie was filmed in this area. During my ride I came upon a bear eating berries on the side of the trail. I startled him and fortunately he headed up the side of the mountain rather than confront me for entering his space. A this point the adrenaline was pumping through my body at lightening speed as I raced through the forest. About ten minutes later I began going down a somewhat steep part of the trail which is generally not a problem except for the fact that at the trail at the bottom was covered with exposed tree roots. I hit the roots way too fast and crashed flipping over the handle bars into a tree. I tried to get up but could not. I tried to crawl to a dirt road about fifty yards away but could not even move because of the tremendous pain shooting through my body every time I tried to move. I knew something was seriously wrong, and it was. I had fractured my back and the next six hours were some of the longest hours in my life as I waited alone for someone to discover and rescue me. It took about an hour for someone to find me and another two and a half hours for an ambulance to haul me to the hospital where I would stay until I recovered……

Fast forward to the present….Up until about six months after my accident I honestly didn’t think I would ever ride a mountain bike again. The recovery was slow and frustrating as I made a Herculean effort to get back into shape to hike and bike but I was determined to get back on a bike again because I didn’t want to become a couch potato. It took a lot of therapy and hard work but I gutted it out. I am not nearly the hiking, biking, stud I was ten years ago but I am much more active and studly than most men my age. Today I presently own four bikes and have renewed my love relationship with my bikes. Next week, lord willing, one of my sons and I are going to go to Yosemite National Park for three days and we are taking our bikes. Biking Yosemite is the way to go. The bike paths are excellent throughout the entire park and you don’t have to worry about parking and the rubbing shoulders with the hoards of people who frequent the park this time of the year. I can’t wait….and….. I hope my son begins his own love affair with bikes…..