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The
Greatest Bike in the World!
(Just in
my opinion, of course)
Hi! My name is Bob and I was
born in 1930, just outside the City limits of St. Louis,
Missouri, in an unincorporated area called Wellston. This
story is not about me, but about
a used bike that I purchased in 1943, during WWII. I was about
13, trying to be 14.
No "new " bicycles were being manufactured
in those days, so most bikes were used or custom built from
scratch with some new parts. This bikes parts came from a girl's
bike and a delivery or transport bike frame. The delivery
bikes had a smaller front wheel, to allow for a large front
basket or box. The shop that made this bike used this
configuration to make a rare tandem bike that could be steered
from the rear. This was the best of all worlds. The
gentleman steers, and the lady rides in front. The fellow in the
back sits higher, sees further and does the steering. Most
tandems steer from the front. On long and steep
hills, you get off and push the bike. Normally with two
pedaling, you could go faster or ride easier for greater
distances. "The greatest bike in the world"! ( Now,
sixty-four years later, I still feel that way.)
My mother was a single parent, with three
children still living at home and she really needed to be
convinced of all the features of the bike built for two, and the
benefits it would bring into our world. I had made up a bunch or these
reasons, but really
got her with the first one: "Darlene, would no longer cry
and complain that I was always using her bike, since I would
have a bike of my own!
For a boy of 13 to spend fifty dollars of
his own earned money for a used bike was an emotional decision.
In two more years, I will buy a drivable used Model T ford for
just ninety-nine dollars, and a few weeks after that purchase an
additional Model T for twenty two dollars in good condition.
To earn fifty spendable dollars, this was about five weeks
of work at the corner service station.
One day
several my class mates with bikes decided to window shop used cars, someone suggested we go
to South Kingshighway in St.Louis to see the "Used car row" of dealers there.(A
round trip was nearly sixteen miles through city
streets.)
We planned to
take Skinker Boulevard south along the west side of Forest Park,
and then get on the "Red Feather" Express Highway at Clayton and
Skinker, go east to Kingshighway and turn off the highway
and head south. During WWII the speed limit was 35
miles per hour to conserve gasoline. The minimum AND the
maximum speed on the Express Highway was thirty five miles an
hour. Posted signs indicated no bicycles or pedestrians allowed
on the highway. A few of us had speedometers on our
bikes and we knew we could just make that speed on a downgrade,
maybe we could be off the highway before a cop saw us.
That was the plan; get on, pedal as fast we could for five
minutes or less and get off. Great idea! Bad idea!
One thing we did not notice was a police car in a gas station
watching all those kids with bicycles get on the highway.
From where we started it was downhill at first and we were
rolling along along at about thirty miles an hour, single file,
fastest in the front. After we had travelled as fast as we
could about a quarter mile we heard a siren behind us and
we pulled over on the the very small shoulder. We were in
serious trouble with the law. Much listening took place on our
part. The policeman seemed quite upset. After a
while he stopped his rant, and he smiled and said, "Do not
ever let me catch you again". Now that was
good news. He allowed us to continue east for the rest of the
distance and get off at Kingshighway. (He followed our
parade with his red light on to protect us from following
traffic.) We gathered our
wits, and continued south on Kingshighway to a couple of used
car dealers. I do not remember much else, except we took a
different route back home. We learned some big things that day.
There were
many other adventures with the bike, some worth writing about in
the future.
Going on the
bike with guys again to see a new 1947 MG-TC (my favorite little
British car) at Clayton and Big Bend, that's a good memory.
The Parkmoor was across the street. The Parkmoor is another
story.
Another time,
the girl I would someday marry, and I went on a short trip from
her home in Wellston to nearby Heman Park on the wonder bike.
That was a good memory.
For my age
group then, (and this may hold true for all age groups), it
seemed to me that a lot of girls wanted to ride on a bicycle
built for two. In the summer at Forest park, when I
watched the dance practice at the Muny, the dancers watched the
boy with the bike built for two. Some dancers convinced
the young fellow that riding the bike on lunch break would be a
good idea. I did my best to make sure that the bike and driver
was at practice that summer. Good harmless fun, all
because I had a bicycle built for two.
Another trip
with the bike pack to overgrown woods area at the west end of
Heman Park, and wandering around the abandoned concrete stadium
or grandstand there. No spray cans in those days, but this
old monument from the past had it's fair share of raunchy
graffiti. After sixty plus years, I have researched this
old grandstand, because it was a mist of mystery in my mind. I
knew where it was, but not the history of the place.
I now know the rest of the story. The story of the short-lived
and abandoned theater is in production now.
All of the
above would have been possible on an ordinary bike, but to me it
was more fun because I had "The Bicycle Built For Two".
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Click photo to enlarge
If I had a better picture, I would not have used this one.
Click photo for larger picture
1946 My sister Darlene on my bike!
Click photo for larger picture
(It was fun at the time)
Click photo for larger picture
Tandem Bicycles are
twice the fun!
Click photo to enlarge
If I had a better picture,
I would not have
used this old Coke advertisement. |
