Freedom of the open road...

I got my first bicycle when I was in second grade. I learned to ride on the dirt driveway and kept riding it into a stump. Once I'd learned how to ride I decided to go for a ride. I was going to ride around several long blocks and go in a square back home. The first turn took me to some railroad tracks and that threw off my square. I got lost and went to a gas station but I didn't know my address. The guy at the gas station gave me a ride home. I knew what street I lived on.

When I was in third grade I rode my bike from Bellflower to Norwalk to sell soap for the YMCA Camp. I rode to the neighborhood where I would soon be moving about six miles from my home. I sold all the soap in two blocks and rode the 6 miles back home, again. Quite a feat for an 8-year-old.

When I was 10, I rode from Norwalk back to Bellflower to visit my friend, I'd done this a few times. One time I caught the Chicken Pox and brought them home to my dad. This time my Mom said I shouldn't go and I didn't listen. On my way there I was crossing a street at a signal and was hit by a car that's brakes had gone out. I was knocked out and woke up at the hospital. I was in the hospital for about a week and bled from my ear.

A year or so later I bought my brother's Columbia Heavy Duty bike. I rode this all over the countryside. One day Severt and I were going to ride to the mountains. We made it as far as the Rose Hills Cemetery 10 miles or so from home. The hills were getting steep so we rode back home. Another time I rode with a friend around the mountain to La Puente, about 25 miles. Then we found an interesting road called Turnbull Canyon. We decided to take it over the mountain. We came out at the spot where Severt and I had given up. It was 25 miles one way to Grauman's Chinese Theater. I rode this several times, sometimes alone and sometimes with friends. I even rode it to Grauman's Chinese when Hayley Mills put her footprints there. One time, I was going to ride to San Diego with a couple of friends. We made it as far as San Clemente, about 75 miles from home. We slept in the garage at the Ranger Station, because we didn't have any camping gear. The next day we rode back home.

A year after high school I got a motorcycle and stopped riding bicycles. When I was 42 the McMinnville Stake had a coast to McMinnville 50 mile bike ride. I hadn't ridden much for over 20 years. My biggest mistake was that I rode it in jeans. I was the last rider in and I was sore for a few days afterward.

Keep on biking....
Dad