Hilarious Bike Adventure
THE KILLER BIKE
By Marianne Clark 

About four and one half years ago I sold my little horse farm in the country and moved into town. Of course, there was a farm sale and all went well except for three bicycles that had belonged to my grandchildren and were no longer in use. I decided to put the bikes out for Rumpke but kept the one girl’s bike as I thought I might like to ride it around in the park. 

I had been in town for several months and when spring got itself sprung, I decided to get the bike out and go for a spin. You have heard many times I’m sure, as have I, that once you learn to ride a bike you never forget how. Well, I’ve got news for you. 

I retrieved the bike from the shed and looked it over. It looked a little weird but a bike is a bike, right? Wrong. I realized that the seat was a little high, but figured that if I got both feet on the peddles I could reach the seat, that part went OK. 

I started coasting down my driveway and out onto Garst Avenue. There is an incline from my house down to the Government Building and I was going along pretty good. The bike started going faster and faster and I thought to slow down. In order to do that you press backward on the peddle, right? Wrong. When I tried to slow down in that fashion nothing happened. I knew I had to stop this thing and quick so I veered off to the left and landed awkwardly on my hands and knees in the grass. I picked myself up and glanced around in all directions. I was somewhat assured that no one had seen me. I decided to head back to the house before the rescue could get there, in case someone did see me. 

On the way back to the house, I was surveying the situation and realized that those squeezey things on the handle bars must be the brakes. I took the bike to the shed where I keep the tools and using an oil can, I got them to working. So now once again, I started down Garst. I’m all right now because at least I know how to stop this thing, right? Wrong. 

Again, I’m getting up too much speed but at least now I know what to do. I squeezed on both of the brakes but, evidently only one of them worked which was for the front wheel. Close your eyes and imagine a 70 some year old lady doing a backward wheelie and going head over heels into the grass. Hilarious! Once again I surveyed the surroundings and decided that no one had seen me, so I picked myself up and started back home again with the bike thinking there has to be a way. Mom always said “where there is a will there is a way”. It was then that I realized that if I could get the seat down to where I could touch the ground, I could stop myself by dragging my feet if the brakes didn’t work. 

Back at the shed I found the tools needed to lower the seat. It was still a little high, but I could at least reach the ground if need be. I readjusted the brakes and once again started down my driveway. I decided not to make the third attempt down the hill again and made the turn towards Broadway. Did you catch the word “attempt”? 

When I tried to turn, my knees were in the way of the handlebars and a turn was impossible. I did not even think about trying to stop the thing as I was concentrating on the turn. I landed on the grass once again when the bike hit the wooden guard rail of the Garst Museum’s back yard. 

You know there is another old saying that was a favorite of my Mom. I’m sure you have heard “the third time is the charm”? Every time my Mom would say that I would think of my Aunt Hazel. She met her first two husbands in the bars and the third one, that lasted 56 years, she met in church.  That one lasted 56 years until Uncle Lloyd passed away. So now when I hear that old saying I will have to chuckle and say to myself, “it ain’t always so”. 

So, meanwhile, back to the bike. I gave up after that third try and my next decision was what to do with the bike. I thought that if I left it parked beside the garage for several days, maybe some would steal it. There had been quite a lot of that lately in the paper. That didn’t work so I decided to try to give it away by attaching a sign “free”. That didn’t work either so it also got picked up by Rumpke. 

Did I give up on riding a bike? No. I figured if I could get my hands on an old bike that had the handle bars and the brakes where they are supposed to be, I could ride it. I did find the bike, but only on loan to see if I really could still ride a bike. I don’t know about you, but when I am operating a moving vehicle I tend to go where I am looking. It is amazing what you can run into while turning your head around to see what is behind you before attempting a turn. To make a long story short I decided that I was much safer walking. 

And as for the old saying, “once you learn to ride a bike, you never forget how”? I think that all depends on the bike.