Rambling Roads

Adventures In Physics And Young Love
by Jeff Beilfuss
December 2010

Her name was Pamela. Today she would be called a cougar. She was older than he and paid no heed to the boy-girl protocol of that time. Girls weren’t supposed to be the aggressors, but what boy would really mind the flattery and attention? If you were a shy boy, it would just make the day. Maybe you would blush a little; maybe you would feel awkward; but it would be all worth it. Maybe some of you guys can relate to this. Right? Today if she wanted to kiss the young man, it would just be normal to go for it. We live in the era of Desperate Housewives, so it would all seem absolutely, positively, perfectly normal. But I digress. This is not a story about young lust and raging hormones. You see, Pamela had a bicycle and the young man didn’t. Pamela was an elderly 9-years old, the young man was an inexperienced 7-years old, fresh out of first grade. The plot thickens. Pamela’s bicycle was the real thing. The tires actually had to be inflated. They weren’t the hard-rubber things found on the three-wheeled version of pedal-power that was the young man’s mode of transportation. Her bike had brakes, too, and it didn’t matter the top tube curved down as was the distinguishing configuration for a girl’s bike of the time. It was a real bike! It was time to leave behind the transportation of children and get with the big kids. There was no doubt about the question of an upgrade.

The tricycle in question wasn’t one of the plastic big-wheels we see kids on today. This thing was built like an old Buick of yesteryear. It had a long wheelbase, looked like an upright but scaled-down version of an adult tricycle, and was made out of steel tube, virtually indestructible. Scale it up, put an insulated box on the back, and you could deliver ice cream with it. You could fill up the open ends of the tubes in the back with water and pretend it was gasoline for your motorcycle. That was pretty cool until Pamela showed up with playing cards clothes-pinned to the bike frame so as to engage the spokes and make a motorcycle-like noise. Kids will do the darnedest things.

The transition to the big leagues was on the horizon. Who would teach the boy how to ride a two-wheeler? It is said experience is the best teacher, so teach yourself, as long as you don’t get killed in the process, although the School of Hard Knocks sometimes comes to mind when learning things on a bike! The method the young professor used was ingeniously simple. He wasn’t going to beg a bicycle from mom and dad and have one of them hover behind him while he learned how to ride. And the horror of even contemplating training wheels was out of the question. Oh, the humiliation of having a friend see him on a rig like that! Image was everything. No sir, he’d use the little hill in front of his house and some creative riding to teach himself.

In those days helmets were something only seen on football fields. Face masks on those helmets weren’t thought of yet, and orthodontists got a lot of athletic referrals. Baseball players didn’t wear helmets. Bicycle helmets weren’t invented yet. This was the era of carbureted automobiles; no seatbelts let alone airbags; steering columns that were prone to impaling drivers on impact; rampant chicken pox, polio scares, measles, German measles, and mumps, all not worthy of being news headlines; and a famous philosopher, Alfred E. Neuman, being quoted saying, “What, me worry?” I’m sure a lot of mothers and fathers with their children venturing forth on bicycles didn’t subscribe to that theory. When the kiddies grew up and got driver’s licenses, the worries grew, too. Ignorance may be bliss, but that doesn’t remove the hidden dangers in life. It was in this environment our young rider was going to teach himself to ride a bicycle.

The Law of Gravity is probably the first law of physics we all learn before our formal education starts. That law is simple: Everything tends in a downward direction as the Earth tries to suck us to its center. Forget that law and gravity always wins by tattooing us with purple bruises and other brightly-colored bodily adornments. But we also learn to harness this power of the universe for our own advantage. The advantage for the young rider was this: The tricycle could be propelled faster downhill with no feet on the pedals.

Taking the feet off the pedals of this tricycle was a distinct advantage in learning to ride a two-wheeled bicycle. With feet on the pedals there was a limitation to speed. Allowing gravity to offer a free ride with feet off the pedals provided a better environment for learning. We all know the difficulty of riding our bikes when the speed becomes too slow. With this enlightenment our young rider started down the hill in front of his house, faster and faster, until the moment was just right, the stars were aligned, and he shifted his weight. Lifting one rear wheel off the pavement he converted his tricycle into a two-wheeled transportation device! Oh, the joy of learning. Two wheels! You could almost hear the heavenly choir singing! It was time for that third wheel to go. It was graduation time!

The graduation ceremony was officiated by the older, more worldly, Pamela, who provided her ‘big’ bike for the young man to use. The same hill was used making pedaling unnecessary. All effort would go into concentrating on staying upright and learning to use the brakes. Pedaling would come later. The view from atop a larger bike was daunting. Gravity was allowed to work its magic, and slowly the new graduate was coasting down the hill on two wheels. Additional rides only increased the rider’s skill level with pedaling coming next. Increased confidence ensued along with an intimate encounter with the bottom of a ditch when his skill level was vastly overestimated. Gravity had won and not for the last time either.

The cougar eventually succeeded in getting that kiss she wanted from the young man, and right on the lips, too! It seemed she was experienced in this sort of thing. He was worried someone would see them or find out about that kiss but didn’t care too much. He was now a big kid on a two-wheeler.

And that, folks, is how I learned to ride a bike, learned something about the Law of Gravity, and learned something about girls. I put the real interest in girls off until much later, which I guess is another story. Well, there was this girl and a tandem once but as I said, it is another story.

Ramble on.