Have you ever heard of Richard Cheese? He has a great version of 99 luft balloons. But my point is, it sure reminds me of a simpler time. A time When I was a child. An easy time, a happy time. A time when I could jump on my bike and go for a ride. And what a ride I had. It was my first bike. Yet, not quite a bike, more like a bicycle. There is a difference. A bicycle is a little bike, like a baby bike. Anyways. I had one. It was a while back. Actually it was thirty years ago....whoa. This is the story, a story, about my first love. Love found, love lost, love known once more, destiny, fate?
It was a C.C.M. Swinger. It was red, it had wrap around fenders, and wide cruiser handlebars (for a child). The best feature though was the crossbar. It was adjustable. It wasn't a tube like every other bicycle. It was rectangle. Sort of like a gas tank. And it had imprinted scallops and the word "Swinger" pinstriped on the sides. Picture an Indian Motorcycle turned into a kids bike. This was it. I loved it. If I could have snuck it past my parents at night in the trailer we lived in, I would have brought it to bed with me. But being trailer trash, there wasn't alot of room for sneaking of anything.
Like I said, I lived in a shady trailer-park for a year or so when i was a wee tyke. It was 1976, a different age. I had started kindergarten and had to travel about 2.5 km.s to school. However, you wouldn't see me climbing out a minivan in front of the school. No way. I was independent. I had a Bicycle. And that bicycle was my ticket to coolness. And I thought I was cool. I knew it. I had to take a collector route to get to school, a road that had a dotted passing line going down the center, it wasn't some neighborhood road. It had regular traffic. It was a road that no 5 year old should even be walking down. But like I said, this was a different time, and it didn't stop me from cruising down the middle of the road, weaving between the lines going as fast as I can, all the way to school.
The school I attended was the classic one room schoolhouse with the dozen or stairs out front leading up to the doubledoors. I would pull into the schoolyard, bypass the bike rack everytime and pull right up to the foot of the stairs and lean the Swinger right up against the stairs. Right in the middle, in everyone's way. I had 2 ways to dismount and I had these moves down to perfection. For the first one I would ride up to the stairs at full speed at a 45 degree angle, and just when I thought I'd crash I'd hit the footbrake and skid sideways right up to the stairs, jumping off the bike while simultaneously leaning it against the stairs. The other was smoother and used more frequently. I would ride up parallel to the bottom stair. I would brake gently so that by the time i reached the stairs i could set the bike down and hop off in a smooth eloquent dismount while the bike always came to rest against the bottom step. It was poetry in motion. I made sure it was in everyone's way so they'd have no choice but to admire it as they tried to climb the stairs when class started.
As the years went by and the miles piled on the bike, it (like any well used machine) started to show it's age. I had flipped the handlebars so they resembled the steering wheel of a b-52 bomber. I thought it suited my riding style and imagination better. I had also painted the crossbar with white latex paint. I don't know why. Eventually I moved into the world of b.m.x. and the last memories of the Swinger were of it being chopped into about 50 pieces, I though it would be fun to rebuild it. It wasn't that fun. It was the classic kid's way to send the bike into the afterlife.
Fast forward 30 years. I 've had many bike in that time, but I always thought back to the Swinger. I missed it. I'm a nostalgic type of guy so I always kept my eyes open for another. But to no avail. The closest I came was finding a frame, sans all moving parts and the coveted crossbar. Way to far gone. I had all but given up on my quest when one random day I happened to be visiting one of my favorite bike shops (Reverend cycles, Imperial, Burnaby...props....) and low and behold hanging on the wall inconspicuously behind some other bikes was a Swinger. A SWINGER, a C.C.M. , red, fully original, intact, wrap around fendered, wide kid cruiser bar Swinger. I was aghast. It even had the same B.C. Tel reflective stickers on the fenders that i had so many years ago. I had to have it! I asked the owner, he said it wasn't for sale. But after I told him my story he said "well, i have to sell it to you then!" He understood.
So for $80 bucks I was once again the owner of a Swinger. It now hangs on one of my walls.
It's to small for me to ride, but my son, he's 4 and it's waiting for him. He already has 3.
Currently, I have 5 bikes. I love bikes. I go to shops and spend hours looking at the bikes. They are art. Except the crappy ones, but I can appreciate them as well. I can't throw a bike away. No bike is junk. Some come close, but as long as it roles....However, I hate when bikes are used for political means, like critical mass rides. Bikes are meant to be for fun and transportation, and looking cool. I will always have a bike. One of my biggest regrets is selling a Santa Cruz Chameleon a year ago that I had painstakingly built up to be top of the line. But since I didn't have disc brakes I had to take a bath when I sold it. I don't even know why I sold it. I honestly can't remember. I think maybe to pay off my damn visa or something. Never again.
Now, as I listen to the Richard Cheese version of Coldplay's "yellow" I think i'll go a look at my bicycle hanging on the wall, I may even take it down and dust it off. I'll never sell it though, if anything, I'll find another bike to hang beside it.
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