By Merlin Lessler — <\/p>\n
I was seven when I got my first bike, a used, single speed, fat tire specimen; you engaged the brake to stop by pushing the pedals backwards. By the time I was ten I\u2019d completed the requirements for a bachelor\u2019s degree in mechanics (bicycle mechanics). <\/span><\/p>\n I took that bike apart dozens of times to fix flats and adjust the handlebars and seat as I grew. When I wanted a racing bike I removed the fenders and flipped the handlebars forward so I could lean over the front wheel like a real racer.<\/span><\/p>\n When the fenders were on I could carry a passenger on the back one, holding me around the waist. If a second friend came by, he sat on the handlebars, facing forward and yelling when we were about to crash into something. <\/span><\/p>\n On the rare occasion when another friend joined us he sat on the crossbar between the seat post and the handlebar post. Four on a bike! A lost art of the 1950\u2019s.<\/span><\/p>\n Like most kids of that era, I could ride facing backwards by standing on the pedals and leaning back to grip the handlebars. Needless to say, my parents spent a lot of money on band-aids, gauze, adhesive tape, and iodine. But luckily no time at the ER.<\/span><\/p>\n I found a three speed, skinny tire English bike with hand brakes under the tree the Christmas I turned 12. I transitioned from a \u201cpony\u201d to a \u201cstallion.\u201d I went on to earn a \u201cmaster\u2019s degree\u201d in bike mechanics. <\/span><\/p>\n