Remember when you were a kid?
Okay, me neither.
Remember when they told you about when you were a kid, and there was that one boy in the neighborhood spotted riding a girl’s bike, only he had a broomstick tied into the frame with baling wire, so it’d look like a boys’ bike? And the bike was pinky purple with flowers on it, so nobody believed it was a boys’ bike anyhow, and the kid got really mad that no one would just say it was a boys’ bike?
Yeah… I don’t remember anyone telling me that story, but that story has always just sorta… been there. People that didn’t grow up in my neighborhood or even in my town nod and chuckle and remember that story. It must have played out similarly, like, everywhere or something.
I remember going cross-eyed a few times from hitting that bar.
I got a lot of second-hand stuff when I was a kid, including a girls’ bike – but my dad, ooh, he was a tricky one! When he gave me the bike and I saw the step-thru frame I complained, “Hey, this is a girls’ bike!” But my dad, he told me, in a voice full of pride and laced with a hint of secret, “That’s not a girls’ bike; it’s an Italian racing bike!”
Oh, man! That was the MOST AWESOME THING EVER!!
I rode that bike proudly! And whenever some other boy tried to tease me about it being a girls’ bike, I piped up and proudly boasted, “It’s not a girls’ bike, it’s an Italian racing bike!”
And suddenly the other boys wanted to ride it, too!! It was the MOST AWESOME BIKE EVER!!
Dad had to re-weld the frame on that thing, a LOT…
I eventually figured out that the bike really was a girls’ bike, but not until long after I’d outgrown it, and realized that my dad was an evil genius. Thanks, Dad!!
Your Dad is the coolest!!
Face it: if you ride a bike with “my little pony” adorned on it, you’re not convincing anyone that you’re not riding a girl;s bike. But yeah, no, I remember no such scenario with a broomstick…
When I grew up in the city, there was no real place to ride bikes. If you were on the sidewalk, you’d be forced out into the street, and if you were on the street, cars would aim at you. So, parents just bought bikes to have an excuse to suspend stuff from the garage rafters. No one actually rode one.
There was a law in our city that you could not ride on the sidewalk once you hit 10 years old. My parents did not want me to ride in the street, so my bike got given away before the training wheels were off. (To be fair, we did live on a pretty trafficky street.)
I remember back in the early 70’s, working in Upper Michigan, a local boy came to the shop with a girls bike and a piece of pipe he wanted us to weld on it…we did.
Big discussion in 5th grade; girl’s vs boy’s bikes & that bar. One girl insisted it was because boys rode rougher & had to have extra reinforcement so the bike didn’t fall apart. My foks insisted on buying me a sissy girl’s bike and no matter what I tried, I couldn’t get the darn thing to break. So after all these years, I find out it was so I could wear a skirt while riding. Dang.
All this talk about bike riding inspired me. I think the Stanky Creek jousting event should be on bikes, or better yet, on unicycles! May I use my cane instead of a lance?
Bent folded spindled mutilated stapled hit-by-bus and left to sunstew on side of road. I am in Portland and we will say that Tuesday should be taken out and shot and Wednesday hasn’t been much better. Hence I haven’t been around to give y’all a bad one.
I hate girls bikes. If I want to bail I tangle with them and go down with them very messily and painfully every time. My first bike was a boys and I prefer them.