The Thrill of the Mountain: Bicycling Down Chestnut Ridge

Truck Warning Sign Atop Chestnut Ridge near Uniontown, Pa

(Photo: Doug Barnes)

In the 1970s my friend Dave and I were both new to road cycling. During one summer, several times a week we “pumped the mountain” on our new bikes. The mountain in question is what locals call "Three-Mile Hill." It’s hardly a hill.

At the top of Chestnut Ridge, Dave and I are sitting on the deck of the Summit Inn and resting from our climb up the mountain. The Summit Inn is a historic “porch” hotel that dates back to 1907. It sits atop the most western edge of the Allegheny Mountains near Uniontown, Pennsylvania. It sometimes is covered in clouds, but this day the weather is clear. Dave and I have a great view of the foothills below.

The Story of my 1976 Sekai Competition Bicycle

1976 Sekai Front Headbadge

(Photo: Doug Barnes)

The US in 1977 has its largest trade deficit in recent history (Lawrence, 1978). Asian and European companies are making inroads into US markets with sales of less expensive or higher quality products. Fears abound that this will hurt the US economy. Sound familiar?

Trade concerns also were felt in the booming bicycle industry during the early 1970s. Consumers began turning away from American-made bicycles such as Schwinn and began favoring brands from Europe including Raleigh, Peugeot and Motobecane. This all changed in the mid-1970s as Japanese companies began taking advantage of their low-cost and high-quality manufacturing facilities to penetrate US markets (Brown n.d.).

Even companies like Schwinn got into the act, importing bicycles from Japan and relabeling them as “Schwinn Quality.” The World Sport and Le Tour models introduced by Schwinn in 1972 were made exclusively in Japan (Crown and Coleman 1996). This was paralleled by the emergence of high-quality component manufacturers including Sun Tour, Araya and Shimano. The Japanese bicycle invasion was in full swing.

A Christmas Bicycle Story from the 1950s

(Photo: Doug Barnes)

My brother Russ asks John the golden question, "What're you gettin' for Christmas?" It's just after Thanksgiving and Russ, John Gronski and I are just beginning to discuss the upcoming holidays. The setting is the 1950s in the small town of Uniontown, Pennsylvania.

This dialogue is a recollection of one cold Christmas day warmed by memories that I had almost forgotten. My brother Russ resurrected my memories about this act of friendship about 10 years ago and I enjoyed all over again the gift of giving a bicycle for Christmas in times that were less complicated than today.

Self assured, John says, "I'm gettin' a new bicycle." At 9 years old John is a constant companion at our house, coming early and staying late. He often joins us for lunch.

Experiencing My First Adult Bicycle Ride in India

To set the scene, I have just been dropped off by the Peace Corps at my new home in Satara, India. Satara is in western India about 150 miles (250 km) from Mumbai (Bombay at the time). To see the experience of arriving at my Peace Corps station the previous day, see my posting "Memories from India and acquiring my first adult bicycle." The year is 1969. For our transportation, the Peace Corps has given my roommate and me brand new made in India, English style roadster bicycles. My roommate and I set out to explore our Peace Corps home in Satara, Maharashtra.

Memories from India and Acquiring My First Adult Bicycle

Most adults ride bicycles when they are in college and then never ride them afterwards. I did the reverse. I acquired my first adult bicycle just after college in of all places Satara, India, and have continued to ride them ever since. In 2011 I was reminded of my first adult bicycle experience when I attended an art exhibit called “Maximum India” at the Kennedy Center in Washington DC.

Interestingly, the Kennedy Center was designed by the same architect responsible for the "brand new" U.S. Embassy in New Delhi that had welcomed me as a Peace Corp Volunteer in India in 1969. The exhibition included many of India’s traditional bicycles performing a variety of economic tasks. These were mostly black, vintage, heavy, rugged English-style roadster models with fenders, common to India because of its colonial history.

Riding the Capital Crescent Trail: A Personal Narrative and History

(Photo: Doug Barnes)

In 1981 I'm on a bicycle ride on the C and O Canal paralleling the Potomac River in Washington DC. As I'm riding towards Georgetown, I'm about to reach Fletcher's boathouse. Suddenly I hear the throaty sound of a steam whistle. The railroad line running by Fetchers has been abandoned for years so I think that I'm hearing things. Then in the distance I perceive the unmistakable rhythmic sound a laboring steam engine coming up the tracks from Georgetown. "Shi, shh shh shh. Shi, shh shh shh."

The Last Train before Bicycles

I stop my bike in the middle of the C and O Canal towpath at Fletchers and look over towards the boathouse. I see a group of musicians dressed in traditional 19th Century period garb. They are tuning their instruments getting ready to play. I look down the tracks that run parallel to the Canal. Then in the distance I see a shiny antique locomotive steaming towards me. The hissing sound seems to be mimicking the words from an old children's story, "I think I can, I think I can." As the train reaches the boathouse, the old wheezing locomotive is badly leaking steam and hot water. Clearly this shiny artifact of times past is more at home drawing appreciative stares in the Smithsonian Museum.

Once the train reaches Fletcher's Boathouse the locomotive at rest is emerging from a cloud of its own grey hissy steam. The band starts to play traditional ditties from the 1800s. The festivities are commemorating the 150th anniversary of the John Bull steam locomotive, first put in service in 1831. The National Museum of American History has a YouTube video of the event: The Last Train on the Capital Crescent Trail

This shiny relic of a bygone era is the last train ever to grace the tracks from Georgetown to Bethesda. The spur had only recently been abandoned by the CSX railways due to a lack of business. The arrival the John Bull locomotive also signals impending change. After decades of neglect the train tracks are to be removed to make way for the creation of the Capital Crescent Trail.

The Happiness Machine

Ray Bradbury's classic book titled Dandelion Wine has a tantalizing quote on a happiness machine. I was struck by the applicability of this quote to bicycling.

Watching him cycle the brick streets of the evening, you could see that Leo Auffmann was a man who coasted along enjoying the way the thistles ticked in the hot grass when the wind blew like a furnace, or the way the electric power line sizzled on the rain wet poles...The wheels of his Happiness Machine spun whirling golden light spokes along the ceiling of his head. A machine, now, to help boys change from peach fuzz to briar bramble, girls form toadstool to nectarine...His invention must let a man drowse easy in the falling leaves like the boys in autumn who, comfortable strewn in the dry stacks, are content to be a part of the death of the world. (Bradbury 1957, p. 37)