So, what is it that draws an individual into a life-long love affair with bicycles? Maybe it’s a combination of the freedom and thrill, or perhaps it could just be the beauty of a man’s interaction with a machine of such pure simplicity. As cyclists, I’m sure we all differ in our reasons, but surely not in our desires to ride. As a child with barely a sense of balance, I came into a life centered around two wheels through an unlikely medium—story-telling. You see, my love of cycling was mostly an adopted one, belonging originally to my father—who regaled me with stories of his youth—many of which, were inevitably attached to either his bicycle or brush. His passionate recollections, unintentionally became the basis of my lifetime romance with bicycles. Truth be told—even before I had my first bike—I was convinced of the glory of cycling by his unbounded enthusiasm, (certainly not his actions). To this day, I’ve only seen the man ride a bicycle three times.
One of his childhood adventures always shaped my ideas of cycling; The tale takes my eleven-year-old father and his 1937 Elgin a Sears & Roebuck “cruiser / fixie” on a 210 mile, 13,000′ gain in elevation, 2-day trip in early July, across North Carolina. Fueled only by the fad of the day, (a bag of peanuts poured into an 8oz bottle of Coke), he pedaled from his family home in Greensboro to his Cousin’s home – the Whitt family farm in Mars Hill. The first half of his journey was from his family home on Lake St. with a stop at his fathers business (Blue Bird Taxi) on Spring St. to say his goodbyes and then onto his Aunt’s house in Hickory. After a nights rest he began the second half of his trip, taking him up into Black Mountain then through the tunnel, on into Asheville and to his destination in Mars Hill. As the story goes, my father and his Elgin made this voyage without any mechanical failures—and as he likes to say, “I pedaled the entire way.” “Pedaled the entire way,” does not exclude one from stopping to catch their breath. Probably necessary when you’re riding a 50lb fixie with baggage and climb the “formidable” 3.5 miles from Old Fort past Point Lookout and into Ridgecrest: a 900 ft ascent, with as far as I can discern—an average grade of 4.8% and some short maximum grades between 20-40%. Yeah, yeah, I know what you crazy-dedicated, 200 mile-per-week people are saying… that’s barely a “Cat 3-4” in grand tour terms (and no, I haven’t tested it with my Citroën). But hey, those guys don’t ride 1930’s era department store bikes. And, even when they did, I recollect reading about a whole lot of walking!
