Washington Junior High School was located at the highest point in Niles. Well, maybe McKinley Heights was actually higher, but the final block getting to Hartzell Avenue, where the school was located, was extremely difficult to climb, let alone to peddle a bicycle. This was my destination in the seventh grade. Two years before, I had received a red bike, the classic Schwinn with a big white stripe. It had, of course, only one gear and balloon tires. However, it did have a headlamp, a wire basket on the handlebars, and a bell.
During my initial, bikeless, years, I had attended the grade school across the street from my house. My new, junior high was a mile away, and up that hill. I rode two blocks north on Cedar, a right turn onto Pearl, a hard push upwards to Hartzell, and several more to WJHS. It was that last block on Pearl, from Orchard to Hartzell, that was the killer. Few kids were able to peddle straight up. Like most, I had to tack from side to side for that last block, hoping no cars would be around, because then I’d have to get off the bike and push it the rest of the way. In fact, I probably pushed my bike more than I peddled it on that damnation block. Going home was much easier.
On the way down Pearl, I was able to fly. It was possible to coast almost all the way. The original momentum from Hartzell would last all the way to Cedar. All I needed to do was to stay on the seat when crossing Orchard, since the tendency was to become air-born at that junction.
I made the round-trip twice each day. We had an hour for lunch and there was no cafeteria. Not many kids brought a sandwich in a paper sack, unless the weather was bad. When I reached home, there would be the usual soup and sandwich (peanut butter/jelly, cheese or bologna) waiting for me to gobble down before returning to school, by foot on days of rain or snow, or by bike for the better ones.
The late afternoon trip home, however, often did take longer, even with using the coasting-all-the-way method. There was a little shop about halfway along Pearl. On many a late afternoon, I would stop there for a few minutes. If the weather were warm, it was the place to buy an orange Nehi or a Hires root beer for a dime, in order to make it the rest of the way home. It was also the place to take a peek at the latest Astounding science-fiction magazine, even if I did not have the quarter to buy one. The space monsters and rocket ships on the covers were magnificent and the heroes created by Heinlein or Bradbury were the best to be found. If the manager looked mean while I browsed the pulps, I would pay a penny for a piece of bubble gum in a red, white and blue wrapper with its Bazooka Joe comic strip. Or, if I could afford it, a nickel for a strip of Turkish Taffy, which did a wonderful job of sticking my teeth together.
Back then, a bicycle was a relatively safe method of travel. My only mishap occurred when the tallest kid in the neighborhood, and later the center on the high school basketball team, straddled the rear seat of my bike while I was riding. We fell. I bit through my lower lip and knocked out a middle tooth. A quick trip to the neighborhood doctor resulted in several stitches in my lower lip, leaving a lump there for the rest of my life. Somehow, Dr. Williamson rammed the tooth back into place and its root took hold. I had a crooked incisor until only a few years ago when my dentist finally reconfigured my teeth.
Bike riding remained as my primary method for getting from place to place during those years of junior and senior high school. I admit riding a bike to and from Washington Junior High was more enjoyable than it was for traveling to Niles McKinley High School. Although peddling up was less exciting than coasting down, I began to realize that both efforts have appropriate places throughout life. I also began to recognize there is still a lot to accomplish between peddling up and not peddling down.