Friday Follies ~~ The Wheelie

As a kid, the idea of a “wheelie” did not occur to me.  I had to be introduced to it.  I remember the first time I saw one.

I was in the habit of going to the movies on one Saturday a month.  In those days, I could take the bus, go downtown to the cheepo theater, the one that ran continuous double and triple plays.  An honest to goodness grindhouse.  Bus trip, with transfer to get home, cost 20 cents.  Admission to the theater was around 75 cents.  Add a dollar for a big Coke and popcorn.  A great afternoon. 

Most times the playbill would be grade Z, sci-fi stuff, but occasionally they would run a string of beach party movies.  Annette and Frankie, Eric von Zipperman, surfing, drag racing, and silliness.

I first saw the wheelie in one of those movies.  It was a stunt on a motorcycle.  The idea had never occurred to me.  Likely, the idea of trying it on a bicycle would not have occurred either.

That was the same summer that Schwinn introduced the original Sting Ray bicycles.  My best friend had one immediately.  He’d had the bike for about three days when he demonstrated that he could do a wheelie on it.  Okay.

I tried to wheelie my big  and beloved Schwinn balloon tired bomber.  I could not make that beast do that.  I was in early adolescence, and on the road to recovery from being “the fat kid.”  I had not really discovered athleticism yet.  The combination of weight, height, and simple lack of coordination prevented the trick on the big bike.  My friend let me try it on his.  I promptly went right over on my butt.  My friend didn’t want me to drop his brand new and cherished bike, so I wasn’t afforded that chance again.

I let the idea of a wheelie go, and forgot about it.  For years.

Fast forward to the 80s.  Suddenly mountain bikes were here.  By then I was a confirmed roadie.  I kind of looked at those early mountain bikes as a sort of goofy thing.  Then a friend induced me to go riding them.  Wow!

My friend was really good at getting over and through stuff, and I was having a lot of trouble.  I saw him use the wheelie as a way to get over obstacles.  I determined to learn to do this.  It couldn’t be all that hard could it?

I tried it.  Without much success.  I couldn’t seem to get the hang of getting that front wheel up.  I wasn’t too worried.  I had other things on my mind, like living through the coming descent and the stream crossing at the bottom.

I continued to be wheelie-free for several more years.  Then I read a skills column in a popular cycling magazine.  According to them there were three essential skills in mountain biking.  Linking those skills allowed one to ride almost anything.  They published a detailed set of instructions for doing a wheelie.

Once again, I had the bug.  By that point in time, I had my own mountain bike.  More, the things had evolved a good bit.  They were much more purpose built than the early ones.  Better geometry, better gearing, better components, even shocks that almost worked.

It was a chilly winter day.  We’d just had a snowstorm.  Yes, it happens here in north Georgia.  Everything was closed, and I had an unexpected day off.  I made a decision.  I pulled the beast out and aired it up, lubed the chain, and donned my heavy outer clothing.

I was having a blast, riding up our dirt road in the snow.  Fun!  Then I got to a level stretch.  I slowed and downshifted.  I cranked into the gearing hard, while pulling up on the bars.  The wheel came up about four inches, and then went back down.  Not spectacular, but a start.  Several more attempts, with similar results followed.  I felt that maybe I was getting the hang of this thing.

I started from a dead stop, and, while going super slow, in a very low gear, I stomped it!  The wheel came up.  Fast.  Too fast!  It came up, and kept on coming up!  I landed on my backside.  There wasn’t that much snow on the ground.  Not enough to cushion the landing.  More, the dirt was frozen very hard.  It hurt.

I made two more attempts, with similar results.  I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t having a lot of fun, and I could very well get hurt doing this.

I think that is called “wisdom” and “maturity.”  At any rate, I quit trying that day.  I’ve since made other attempts.  I can get the front wheel a few inches off the ground, and no more, or I can go right on up and over, falling on my keister.  I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never be a “wheelie wizard.”  I’m okay with that.  I can still ride, both on and off the road.  I have a lot of fun.  I’m pretty stable on the bike.  Sometimes, that’s enough.

But I do still sometimes wish I could wheelie.  Just not enough to risk the broken wrists and tailbones, or concussions.