The kids of south-central Farley in the late 80s and early 90s must have been expert bicyclists.
We rode our bikes in the most reckless fashion, all day long, and no one ever got injured.
Oh, and no one wore helmets. In fact, I’d be shocked if any household in Farley owned a bike helmet in those days.
One of our favorite things to do was latch on to a moped rider’s arm and have him/her pull us halfway across town. We did that constantly and never thought twice. Now I realize how dangerous that was.
We south-central Farley kids lived on our bikes when we weren’t playing baseball. My Schwinn Sprint could have navigated the town’s streets by itself after all the miles I put on it.
My proudest moment was outrunning the Hintgens’ scary dog one afternoon. That canine knew I was frightened of him, and he smelled blood that day. But I shifted into top gear and raced past Sweeneys, Streifs and Rauens. Eventually that dirty dog gave up the chase. Ha ha ha!