When I was little, we only had one car. Sometimes, Mom would get me out of bed before dawn to take Dad to work. Other times, Dad would ride his bicycle to work. That was also fun because he would bring home all sorts of interesting things he found in front of the bar near his work. It's incredible what drunk people will lose while stumbling out of a bar, like the expensive man's watch Dad found. Dad already had a watch, but Mom loved it and wore it for years.
On Sundays, Dad would bike from our home and circle three local lakes – Harriet, Calhoun (now called Bde-Maka-ska), and Lake of the Isles.
I remember when Dad bought me my first two-wheel bike. Mom and Dad didn't believe in training wheels, so Dad was determined to teach me to ride a two-wheeler. He was an avid jogger at the time, which helped since the only way I could balance was if I rode really fast. We started out slow, with him holding onto the ring of my banana seat, and then he'd let go (without me knowing) and tell me to keep on going. I would then panic (of course) and pedal as fast as I could to stay balanced. He would have to RUN to remain close enough to catch me when I slowed down again. I can only imagine how many calories he burned trying to keep up with me, but he never let me fall, and I was riding solo in no time.
When I was old enough to ride a bicycle, we would go on family bike rides, typically down to Minnehaha Falls and back. In 2024, the ride would include West River Parkway, bike trails, hiking trails, etc. In the 1970s, it was just plain old River Road – a sidewalk if you were lucky, and dirt paths if you weren't. There was one time we got caught in a thunderstorm and had to wait it out under the eves of Dowling Elementary School. A stranger joined us, and Dad started gabbing with him like he was an old friend. Dad preferred the hermit life, but when he did go out in public, he could start a conversation with anyone.
Dad's longest ride ever was from Minneapolis to Little Falls, MN, a little over 100 miles. It was also the time that he completely confused his mother. Dad had a green Schwinn bike for toodling around town and riding to work. But he used his fancy silver Schwinn touring bike for this long-haul trip. I don't remember the model, only that it was a special collector bike worth a lot of money. He started for Little Falls before the crack of dawn on Saturday morning and rolled up to my Grandma's house long before Mom and I did in the car. When Dad strolled into the house, Grandma asked where Mom and I were. Dad said he rode his bike and that we would be driving up later. Grandma didn't believe him. Even though there was no car outside, she still didn't believe him. It wasn't until two hours later, when Mom and I arrived and corroborated his story, that she actually believed him. We had a good laugh over that.
Dad discovered on that trip to Little Falls that his touring bike was very uncomfortable, especially the toe clips pinching his feet. He ended up selling it for a large chunk of change and used the money to buy me a piano.
The picture included in today's story is one I found in pictures I inherited from my Grandma through my cousin.
