University of Kansas - Jayhawker Yearbook (Lawrence, KS)

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Bicycles . . And More Bicycles I watched enviously as the girl raced down Fourteenth Street towards us, her hair streaming behind her as she hunched jockey-style on her orange Schwinn Varsity. The whirl of the spinning tire filled the air as she swooped down the hill, deftly dodging Coors cans in the street. The slight wind which hit me as she streaked by recalled the heavy September heat more greatly after it died, but I continued to struggle up the hill, pushing my bike towards the art museum. I could feel my face grow flushed from the exertion, and I wondered how my companion could march up the street, one hand on the bike, in the noon sun. We did not speak to each other, except to wish breathlessly that the cool autumn weather would arrive. My 10-speed bike was worthless to me, climbing that hill, because of my weak thighs. I won- dered if it was really worth the effort. Pushing that bike up that same hill each day, and hating it more each day, until I had almost ceased to ride for pleasure in this hill-centered city. But I had no choice now except to climb. Once we reached Jayhawk Boulevard, I forgot the disillu- 24 sionments of the previous moments in the cooling breeze that greeted us as we pedaled effortlessly down the street. There were many cyclists on the hill, and we darted in and out among them like cowpunchers on a cattle drive. I wished that I could spend the afternoon sailing down the streets and enjoying all the freedoms which such rides brought. But the whistle blew, and I reluctantly stopped to chain my bicycle to a No Parkingi' sign. I hated to relinquish the aftemoon's vitality by going in- side, so I leaned against the cyclone fence to watch the cycl- ists speeding by. A deep-rooted pleasure ebbed over me, knowing that I was one of them. The same sort of pleasure that I got from singing the Star-Spangled Bannern or marching in a moratorium parade or watching Armstrong step on to the moon. It was, perhaps, the pleasure of a fad, but I did not experience that feeling often in these pessimis- tic, realistic days. And I treasured it. I treasured it even though I knew that in a year or two the bicycles would be gone, would have disappeared like hoola-hoops and skate boards.

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