Thursday, April 16, 2009

Attebetty's Wild Ride OR How Did We Live Thru It? Part 1 (see below for 2 & 3)


I was 10 in August 1953. We lived in a trailer park in Marysville. It was Friday.

My 'cousin' (not my cousin.....but how we know each other is too confusing for normal people to grasp....) had tricked out his old bike for me. It was a boy's bike. Probably close to 10 years old by this time. He was 7 years older than me. Big, fat tires. Wide fenders. Darryl had re-painted it Ticonderoga No. 2 Pencil yellow with a paint brush. He put on so many coats, you could see each brush stroke and the paint was 'spongy' when pushed on.

My sister Vera had the cool, blue & white bike with narrower tires. And, it was a girl's bike. I always took it when we went somewhere without Vera. This day, she wanted to go with us.

Karen Kloster, Vera and I went up to the Quil Ceda golf course to steal pie cherries from the tree in front of the Restaurant/Pro Shop located about 300 yards up the steepest hill in the Marysville area. I was wearing a navy & white polka dot bathing suit with a little attached, flouncy skirt. I was skinny as a rail and had a afro long before they were 'in'. My curls were so tight, my Dad used to laugh and say the back of my head looked like a 'sheep's butt'. (Picture a dandelion.... skinny stalk, huge fluffy, top....)

I was straddling my bike quickly, picking cherries and stuffing them down the front of my bathing suit, when a waitress stepped onto the porch of the restaurant and yelled, "You kids get out of here before I call the cops!!" We peeled out of the parking lot and took off down the hill. I was first.

It was to be a quick ride down to the 'T' in the road at the bottom of the hill and a sharp right onto the road home. As I hurtled down the hill; my bike rattled alarmingly. Then the handle bars loosened up to the point where I couldn't steer. Then the chain flew off and hit me in the ankle as I flew off the bike, across the road, with the handlebars in my hand, and down about 10 feet towards an electric, barbed-wire, 3 strand fence!

I hit all 3 strands full force, then slid down and sprang back off to the ground.

5 comments:

Attebetty said...

The bike in the photo looks like a Porsche compared to what my bike really looked like. My tires would have held up that tractor missing a tire in a previous post.... It was like a Mountian Bike on steroids.

Civilla said...

The trailer looks cool, and also the way the yard is fixed up. That wouldn't be Marysville, California, would it? We used to be stationed near there.

P-Dot said...

No, it's Marysville, WA. This is not a picture of her actual park, it's just one that I had. I was going for mood.....

Attebetty said...

Looks a lot like our spot back then though. We had a wood carport. That park was a ball and great $$ maker for a babysitter. Had lots of pets too. I ended up with all the cats people left. One was named Trudy. She had kittens and I named the girl Trudy Jr. Poor Dad....Every time we brought something furry home; it had babies...

Kathy said...

I love that first photo!