The Sunshine Bicycle

My Dad came home and surprised me with a bicycle when I was in Grade 3.

We still lived in London. It may have been for my 9^th birthday.

In those days, there were no small-size bicycles. The bike my Dad brought home was way too big for me. I could not reach the pedals.

Dad tried to solve that by cutting blocks of wood and bolting them through the pedals. I tried riding it, but after a few falls, the bike got put away until I was big enough to handle it.

In Windsor a couple of years later, we put a big heavy-duty carrier on the handle bars. I used it to deliver The Sunday Detroit Times and, later, groceries when I worked for Clark’s Market.

The bike had a medallion below the handlebars that said Sunshine Bicycles, Waterloo, Ontario. As bicycles go, my Sunshine bike was a tank. Everything on it was bigger and heavier. The tires were wide balloon white-walls with tread like a car. The fenders were thick heavy galvanized steel. I remember I was in a bad collision with another bike one time. The other bike’s front wheel, fender and handle bars were all bent. My bike didn’t have a dent.

There were no gears or hand brakes. The brake was part of the back axle assembly. To stop, you back-peddled a quarter turn and pressed. This bike was so heavy, the brakes in the back axle sometimes wore out. When that happened, I had to get a replacement part machined to put the bike back on the road.

The heavy bike was dead last in a short sprint. It was work to get it going, but once it was cruising, it had enough inertia to make peddling and coasting almost effortless. When the overpass was being built through Jackson Park, my friends and I went to the top to see how far we could coast. My friends made it almost to Tecumseh Road. My bike took me nearly a full block farther.

The picture above shows me at about 15 with my little sister Shirley in the carrier. We are in the alley behind our house at 1115 Bruce Ave., in Windsor. The green garage had a dirt floor and was nearly too small to hold a car. The car in the picture is my Dad’s 1962 Plymouth Fury. It had push-button transmission and was the first car I drove when I got my beginner’s licence when I was 16.

Once we were old enough to drive, my friends and I stopped riding our bikes.

I took Driver’s Education through the high school with some other kids in my class. My driving instructor was Mr. Nash. He had a Rambler. I always thought that was funny. If you do not know why, Google Nash and Rambler.