There was no garbage pick up in Lincoln County in 1979, so a trip to the local garbage bin was required. I remember that old, rusty, smelly box with plastic milk jugs and various tin cans strewn about. I enjoyed the rides to transport our weekly donations because I found worthy treasures for my five-year-old self. Trips to town were rare during this carbureted era, and getting a toy, other than for Christmas or a birthday, was uncommon.
One particular day, as we approached the treasure chest, traveling in a two-tone, square body, single cab Chevrolet pickup, I noticed a bike! No inspection needed, it will do, my first bike. Into the back of the truck it went- with help of course.
The trip home was filled with anticipation, as I couldn’t wait to show off my new find. Of note: I didn’t know how to ride a bike! Once unloaded I gave it a few pushes around the yard. I remember standing barefoot and looking slightly up to inspect the handlebars.
As a result of my excitement, I failed to notice a flaw- the front rim had sustained damage at some point in its existence and was warped, giving the bike a wobble as it rolled along the gravel driveway. Hey, fair enough, its flaw is what united it with its new five-year-old owner.
Then came the test of my balancing abilities; I had to figure out how to ride this imperfect contraption, which by the way, was too big for me to sit on and hold up. After my brothers and sisters left for school one day, I decided to figure out how to operate my garbage bike. We had a gravel, circle drive located in front of our mobile home. The drive had a slope to it and therefore provided some help to get my garbage bike rolling.
At the top of the slope, standing on the left of the bike, I lifted the rear of the bike to rotate the pedal assembly to get the left pedal to a position so I could put my left bare foot on it, push the bike, and jump on it and try to continue the momentum. I don’t remember how many times it took to learn how to keep it balanced, wobbling along, but I do remember crashing to the rocks a few times, skinning my elbows and knees. Nevertheless, adrenaline and excitement kept me going.
Mind you I was wearing only shorts- no shirt, no shoes; I was one piece of clothing from naked. Wobble, wobble, wobble and crash was the order. Finally, I was able to get a couple turns of the pedals and then crash. Eventually, I learned to jump off before the bike came crashing to a halt.
After a few tries, I was able to keep garbage bike upright and balanced and make the turn and travel uphill around the gravel drive. I eventually made the loop and was soon riding my garbage treasure, wobbling nonetheless, but having fun.
I now think of that bike and wonder if the person that discarded it ever imagined the excitement and fun it provided for me. My determination did not go unnoticed, and I received a brand-new bike for my next birthday, which, by the way, began a whole new chapter of excitement, adventures, and yes, more stories.
