1952 here, small town in central Ohio.
My first two bikes were hand-me-down beaters that barely rolled. The first one didn’t have fenders or a chain guard, and I am fortunate to be here speaking with you today as my pants cuffs once got caught in the chain, bringing me to an abrupt stop while I was in traffic. I nearly got hit by a car coming up behind me, and I was saved only by the car swerving one way while I managed to topple over the other. When I got a paper route in 1965, my second beater-bike’s brakes were failing, so a new bike was needed. I was a working boy now and spending long evenings in the saddle disseminating the news to the masses, so I needed dependable — and safe — transportation. I should have gotten a proper working boy’s heavy-duty bike, but I was seduced by the sports-car appeal of the Schwinn Sting-Ray. I even thought it was practical for the work, since I’d drape the newspaper bags over the banana seat. In the event, sitting on the papers wasn’t that convenient, and it turned out to be a fairly bad choice of bike for the job at hand.
Also — small-wheeled bikes were something new in the world then, and reports came to my ears that the cool kids (who all had ten-speeds) thought I looked “dorky” riding that dinky little thing. All these years later, it seems as though small-wheeled bikes are now pretty much the common type.
I did my first paper route on a Stingray too. I delivered the Glendale News Press. The worst part of the job was collecting the money, not delivering the papers.