I am not boasting, but I think I was the unofficial Bicycle King of the Bronx...
There really is no such title. But if there was, I would be a legitimate contender for the crown.
Back in the Sixties when I was a teenager, even at the young age of fourteen, I rode my 3-Speed English racer almost everywhere. I traveled through bad neighborhoods where riding a bicycle was risky. I've had glass bottles thrown at me, and kids chasing after me with angry taunts.
Once, while riding along Rosedale Avenue in the Soundview section where I grew up, a large group of older teenagers hurled soda bottles my way. While another time, three teens jumped out from between two parked cars, grabbed me, and threw me off my bike. I wasn't hurt, but I could've been. Most often incidents like these were on or near the grounds of New York's City's housing projects, which as its residents know, were considered to be high crime areas. As a rule, outsiders were unwelcome.
For me, riding was not just good exercise, it was an obsession, and an adventure as well. On weekends when I was off from school, and after finishing my breakfast, I was out the door and on the road. From Soundview I peddled to various places such as Clason Point, Hunts Point, Castle Hill and Throgs Neck, Pelham Bay, Orchard Beach and City Island, and even beyond the borough's boundaries.
I would also go into Westchester County and ride the streets in places such as New Rochelle, Larchmont, White Plains and Rye. I usually won't get home until after dark. I rode in the rain and in the snow. I grew up having plenty of friends, but their parents would not allow them to ride with me. It was considered unwise and dangerous to leave one's neighborhood. Yet for me there were no limits, and I loved it that way.
I was the Bicycle King of the Bronx, even if no one else knew it.
D.B.
Back in the Sixties when I was a teenager, even at the young age of fourteen, I rode my 3-Speed English racer almost everywhere. I traveled through bad neighborhoods where riding a bicycle was risky. I've had glass bottles thrown at me, and kids chasing after me with angry taunts.
Once, while riding along Rosedale Avenue in the Soundview section where I grew up, a large group of older teenagers hurled soda bottles my way. While another time, three teens jumped out from between two parked cars, grabbed me, and threw me off my bike. I wasn't hurt, but I could've been. Most often incidents like these were on or near the grounds of New York's City's housing projects, which as its residents know, were considered to be high crime areas. As a rule, outsiders were unwelcome.
For me, riding was not just good exercise, it was an obsession, and an adventure as well. On weekends when I was off from school, and after finishing my breakfast, I was out the door and on the road. From Soundview I peddled to various places such as Clason Point, Hunts Point, Castle Hill and Throgs Neck, Pelham Bay, Orchard Beach and City Island, and even beyond the borough's boundaries.
I would also go into Westchester County and ride the streets in places such as New Rochelle, Larchmont, White Plains and Rye. I usually won't get home until after dark. I rode in the rain and in the snow. I grew up having plenty of friends, but their parents would not allow them to ride with me. It was considered unwise and dangerous to leave one's neighborhood. Yet for me there were no limits, and I loved it that way.
I was the Bicycle King of the Bronx, even if no one else knew it.
D.B.
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