My First Bike: A Journey from Freedom to Responsibility

When I was a young boy in the early 1970s, my first bike was a Schwinn knockoff, a journey that began with promise but quickly devolved into a source of frustration and mishap. This first experience with two wheels was more complex than I ever imagined.

A Childhood Memory

It was 1973, and I was 12 or 13, a preadolescent eager to start my life as a bike enthusiast. My parents had planned to buy me a new bicycle, and after a drive to the local Two Guys store in our 1968 Ford Country Squire Station Wagon, I was ridden with excitement and anticipation. However, my step-father, with his 6th-grade education, decided to limit our spending to $50, leaving me disappointed when the bicycle turned out to be a cheaper knockoff brand. The bike arrived in a box, and it took weeks to assemble it, much to my disappointment and frustration.

Crucial Lessons in Responsibility

When the bike finally became operational, it was single-speed and had a coaster brake that refused to work. My mother's response, "Are you trying to stop on a dime," was less than helpful, as it did not address the real issue. Frustration mounted as the bike rattled and things were loose and crooked. I insisted on bringing it back to the store, but they refused, citing inconvenience. I eventually took the bike to a local bike shop on a Saturday, where a technical expert confirmed that the hub was defective and needed replacement. However, my parents refused to replace it, saying, "Oh well, you’re going to have to live with it."

The Longevity of a Defective Bike

I rode that bike until I was nearly 16, often choosing to walk to school as the brake did not function properly. Over the years, I had to tighten and re-tighten bolts and screws, as there were no lock washers. Eventually, the bike’s metal became cheap and parts began to rust, the worst incident being when one of the fork legs broke, necessitating a significant repair effort. I transformed the bike into a chopper, painting it purple to disguise the rust, but it eventually snapped completely, becoming part of the town's trash.

Lessons Learned and Moving On

Growing up in a lower middle-class family, financial struggles were common, with my step-father's gambling and union career complications adding to the challenges. Despite the troubles, my first bike provided a taste of freedom, but also a profound lesson in responsibility and the realities of aging equipment. My first bike eventually faded into the past when I got my driver's license, and I no longer missed it.

Fast forward to a different experience, my first motorcycle, the Bajaj Pulsar 220, marked a significant milestone. Bought in December 2016, it was a 220 cc motorcycle with dark black paint and red lines. Rising from my role as a software engineer, I saved enough to indulge in my passion for motorcycles. The Pulsar 220 was a legendary bike, designed to roar on the roads, and it marked a new beginning for my motorcycle journey.

From a Schwinn knockoff to a Bajaj Pulsar 220, my journey as a bike enthusiast reflects the evolution of technology and the complexity of starting any new adventure. My first bike may have been a deathtrap, but it also taught me valuable lessons about responsibility and the importance of taking care of what you have.