my first bike

This is me on my first bike. The date on the photo is June, 1970 but my grandmother had a habit of not developing her film for a long time, so more likely it's 1969. That would make me 4 years old.

Yes, that's corn growing across the street. That's the house of my neighbor, Sniffen Bellows, who called me "Windy" and taught me how to tie flies. And, yes, I grew up in the sticks.



I vaguely recall that my father won this tricycle on a call-in radio show. I remember going to a toy store to pick it up. This was the only new bike we ever had in our family. It's a red Murray trike.

My cousin, Randy, is six months older than me. But I was a really tall girl and he looks like a squirt next to me. I only had one "kids" birthday party during my childhood. I was seven at the time. There's a photo of all five of us on the couch and I'm about 18 inches taller than all the other kids. I was 5'8" by the time I was 9. I was taller than the only two men in my elementary school (the gym teacher and the principal). I guess the janitor didn't count.

When my mother died, I found my trike in the attic. I decided I wanted it, along with the cuckoo clock and some refrigerator magnets, so I shipped it back to CA. It's got a few tiny little rust dots, and the streamers are a little weary, but it's still an awesome bike. It's sitting in my living room along with all my other bikes.

I like this one the best.