Due to my dad being so enamored with all things wheeled, when it came time for any of us kids to be old enough to use a vehicle we were provided with one. I had a beautiful tricycle at the earliest opportunity, as did all my brothers and sisters when they were old enough. Some may have been hand-me-downs. I don't remember all the details.
The early sixties were a time of many, many changes as everyone knows. One of those changes had nothing whatsoever to do with socioeconomic climate or freedom to the people--it was a style thing. A style thing that a kid could relate to. That was when the bicycles came out with "banana seats" and high-rise handlebars. I think Schwinn was the company that first introduced the public to the phenomenon. They called them Sting Ray bicycles. from that point on, the term "Stingray" became synonymous with any bicycle that had the long, narrow seat and the high handlebars--whether it had the accompanying sissy bar backrest or not. For many families, a Schwinn bicycle was a little extravagant. We were such a family. That doesn't mean we were left out though. One day (I don't remember if it was any sort of special occasion or not) my brother Don and I both received brand new stingray bikes. They were not the genuine article of course--they were store brand bicycles from our local Western Auto store in downtown Auburn. I think they were both maroon with a white seat but I'm not sure. Don's might have been a different color. I just know that mine was maroon.
I loved that bike so much! Suddenly, I was no longer a pedestrian. I had wheels under me! From that day on it was not as easy as it had been to call us when it was time to eat or go to bed. We could be right there at the house or several blocks away--you just never knew. It didn't take too long before rules came into play. "Tell me where you're going before you leave" was one that got drilled into us over and over. True to my nature, I got in trouble for breaking it over and over. It's easy tell mom where you're going if you know where you're going, but many times my destinations evolved from somewhere else. Incrementally, I'd find myself further and further from home just because one thing led to another which led to another, etc. I've always fallen victim to the "Ooo, shiny things!" and I would have to go investigate. I got in trouble a lot during my childhood, and I no doubt caused my siblings to get into trouble several times too. I learned to ride wheelies like a pro--one time riding 4 1/2 blocks! Okay, Algona had small blocks, but still--that's a long way to go on the back wheel. I must have been pretty proud for it to have stuck in my mind all these years.
I had that bicycle for a lot of years. It covered every inch of Algona, and when we moved to Auburn, it took me everywhere in town there too. It was the vehicle for my economic freedom too, delivering newspapers around town for years. I lost lots of blood because of that bicycle--learning lessons of physics and stupidity along the way. It got repaired, painted, and altered many times over. I had it so long and used it so much that every single part of it had been replaced at one time or another--even the pedal crank bearings. Who rides a bicycle often enough to wear out the bearings in a pedal crank? I do. I became a pretty good bicycle mechanic. I wonder what the numbers might have said if it would have had an odometer on it? In the end what was left of the bike looked nothing like it's original self.
But oh, the stories it could tell.
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