Charlie, a biking legend

The first bike that I remember belonged to my brother, Charlie.  I don’t remember a lot about the details other than it was a red boy’s bike.  It also had a fender over the rear tire which became my mode of transportation.

Charlie’s bicycle skills were legend in the family.  When he first began riding alone (There was no such thing as training wheels), he circled the block 23 times.   Twenty-three times he circled, past our house, a left by the Halls house, down the street to a left by the Hodel house and then the final left and back to our house.  His proud parents counted as he went around and around the block until he finally fell.  As they helped him up his only comment was “How do you stop?”  His teachers had neglected to share that important information. One wonders why he didn’t shout out “HELP!” on one of those 23 laps.  When Debbie started to ride, everyone made sure that she knew how to stop.

As Charlie grew, he and his friends met up each day on their bicycles to play.   I’m not sure how they knew where to meet (no one had watches or phone) but nevertheless each day they would appear on their bicycles to ride through the town and do stuff.  (I am going to call it stuff because they wouldn’t tell me what they were doing).

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Occasionally, Charlie was told to watch his little sister. I was probably 5 or 6 and Charlie in his early teens. There was no getting out of it the little sister duty.  So, Charlie adjusted and improvised.   He taught me to ride on the back fender of his bike.  The first ride must have been harrowing to watch.  I climbed on the back fender with assistance probably from the higher porch, held on to both sides of Charlie’s shirt, stuck my feet out away from the back wheels and off we wobbled.  Charlie somehow scared the devil out of me because I was convinced my feet would be cut off if they touched the wheels (I still believe this).  I was also never to drag my feet on the ground or we would crash (this might have been proven to be true). 

Once we arrived at the meet up destination, the bikes were often left while the crew went off to play.  Sometimes, I was assigned the duty of guarding the bikes from Judy, a girl 4 or 5 years older than me.  Judy did not have a bike but knew how to ride.  She would sneak up and grab a bike and take off riding.  My job was to jump up and start yelling if I saw her.  I can remember running behind her yelling “Get off the bike”.

Another family legend was Charlie’s bike accident.  He and a friend were riding in the country.  I am not sure what happened, but it involved a bridge, a hill and gravel.  He fell off the bike onto a gravel road.  My parents and I were out and when we came home, Charlie and his friend were waiting.  The car pulled into the driveway, Charlie limped out into the headlights and lifted this shirt to show his stomach as one giant road rash.  I have never seen my parents jump out of the car so fast in my life.  It was spectacular.