The Emporia Gazette

May 27, 2012

• Headlines
• Sports
• Forums
• Weather
• Classifieds

• Help
• Log in
• Home

• E-mail story
• Post a comment
• iPod friendly version

I HAVE MADE the title sound like I have been a big bicycler for much of my life. That is not true. Riding a bike was a very small part of my life. There were a couple of interesting bike experiences, however, about which wish to tell. I would do that, if I had my way.

I was about 18 and Fred was a year or so older. We were in college now, but had been close friends all through high school there in DeKalb, Ill., in the late 1930s. It was summer and we both had minor jobs, but we could arrange a couple of weeks for some sort of an adventure.

We decided we would go up to see Fred’s uncle. He ran a small grocery store on the shore of Lake Superior way up on the top edge of Wisconsin. We wanted to see that country and Fred’s uncle’s place, but how would we get there. It was a good 500 miles or so.

We would bicycle up. Neither of us were bikers or had bikes, but we got a couple of bikes somehow. Off we went with a few changes of clothes and a blanket roll strapped to the back of our bikes.

We went 104 miles that first day, just a bit north of Janesville, Wis. We slept on the ground on newspapers and under our blanket. We got up early, found a bite to eat and set off again. We went 56 miles that second day.

That night, we decided we would stay in a tourist home. We could do that for only a dollar. After a bath and a change of clothes, we walked about three blocks to a restaurant. Though we were both great talkers, neither of us said anything on our walk. Nor did we talk much while we ate. And we were quiet while we walked back to the tourist home. Suddenly, we both said about the same thing at the same time. In essence, we both said we should leave the stupid bikes and hitchhike.

The man at the tourist home said we could leave the bikes in his barn. We did, we hitchhiked, we did get to Fred’s uncle’s place that day.

We had a good time on the lake shore. And we had this “almost adventure.”

One night we walked down a road in the woods to a tavern. In Wisconsin, you could buy a beer at the age of 16 — it was a big brewery state. We had a couple of beers and walked back to the uncle’s place.

The next day, we heard a story from a customer in the store. He had almost hit a big bear the night before on that same road we walked for beer. And it was just 10 or 15 minutes after we had been at that place on the road. Wow! We were lucky. But it had nothing to do with biking. After a fine time at Fred’s uncle’s place, we hitchhiked home. It went well. We went right on through the town where we had left the bikes. And we did have one rather special adventure.

Toward the end of our second day on the road, we were on the edge of a town hoping to catch one more ride that day. Fred was up thumbing and I was sitting a few feet away resting. The town police chief came by. He stopped and told us that we could spend the night in his jail. We did.

That night went well for me. We were not locked in. I slept fine. There were three cells. I was in one on the end. Fred was in the middle cell. A wife-beater man was next to Fred in the third cell. He gave Fred some sleeping problems because he kept swatting and swearing at flies off-and-on all night. But Fred did get some rest and we were off the next day.

The day after we got home, Fred’s dad let us take his car. Back up we went, got the bikes, tied one on each fender and went back home. Our biking days were over.

My biking was not quite over. A good many years later, in 1965 to be exact, I had another biking life. I was on sabbatical leave in Sweden at the University of Lund for six months. The family was with me.

Whenever I went soil-collecting in Sweden, Denmark, Norway or Finland, I would rent a car. Sometimes the family went with me, sometimes I was alone. But much of my time was spent in the lab at the university. It was well over a mile from where we lived, a long but pleasant walk. However, I rented a bike so I could ride there sometimes. And one for each of the kids, too.

So, I biked to and from the university often. Lots of Swedes were bikers. Girls and women were beautiful on their bikes. One day I was so intrigued riding behind a woman and watching her sit on her bike seat that I ran my bike into a parked car. Fortunately, no damage and no injuries.

There, then, you have heard about my bicycling life. Not big, not long, but a few little adventures in it. Most people would be bigger and longer bikers than I was, if I had my way. It is a good way to get around.