BICYCLING. 



A FRIGHTFUL HEADER. 



OKRIN D. BARTLETT. 



Only those who live or have camped at 

 great altitudes, among the grand old moun- 

 tains, can appreciate the inspiring beauty 

 of a summer morning in the Susquehanna 

 hills. 



Such a morning was selected by my 

 friend and me for our memorable trip to a 

 neighboring town, several miles down the 

 valley. 



The village for which we were destined 

 is on the Eastern bank of the river, as is 

 also Wyalusing, the historic borough from 

 whence we journeyed. 



In order to reach Laceyville, we were 

 obliged to traverse a rough, mountainous 

 road, crooked, stony, and intersected by 

 numerous small ditches, made to prevent 

 the heavy rains from cutting channels in 

 the road. These drains, however, had failed 

 of their purpose, judging from tk^ condi- 

 tion in which we found the road. 



The fragrant morning air and the bright 

 sunshine cheered our hearts as we mounted 

 our wheels and sped away, with the en- 

 thusiasm of young Indians. 



Past green meadows, shady groves, and 

 by swiftly speeding brooks, we flew, that 

 rippled and played in the sunlight as if 

 they too felt the delicious contagion of the 

 glorious morning. On and on we sped, 

 vieing with each other in friendly rivalry 

 of strength, until many miles were covered 

 and we had reached the foot of Brown- 

 town mountain, where a long, tedious 

 walk confronted us. Here we leaned our 

 steeds against a rail fence and asked the 

 owner of the old house if we might trouble 

 him for a drink of water, when out trotted 

 a flaxen haired, barefoot girl, with a tin 

 clipper filled with sparkling, almost ice- 

 cold water, from a spring that flowed from 

 the base of a large rock. 



After a 15 minute rest, we set out to 

 climb the mountain. Only 2 wheelmen, to 

 our knowledge, had ever claimed to have 

 ridden up this grade, and as there existed 

 a strong but unacknowledged rivalry be- 

 tween them and us, we determined to make 

 a desperate effort to ride to the top; and 

 so, mounting once more we followed the 

 winding mountain path toward the sum- 

 mit, occasionally stopping for a breath.. 



Our hearts were beating like trip-ham- 

 mers, from the terrible exertion; but with 

 dogged determination and an immense ex- 

 penditure of muscular force we finally 

 landed at the top of the long hill. Then we 

 dropped on a grassy mound, which was as 

 welcome as a feather bed to a sleepy boy. 

 Here we gave our aching limbs and winded 

 lungs an opportunity to recover their 



wonted vigor. Then we remounted and 

 bowled along through the picturesque 

 farming country, on the tableland, drink- 

 ing in the beauties of rural life, until we be- 

 gan the descent of the mountain. 



Here we started out on a hot brush. 

 Away we sped like the wind, alternately 

 gaining or losing on each other. Our in- 

 nate love of competition was fully awak- 

 ened, and we scarcely thought of the danger 

 we incurred. The narrow mountain road 

 gave hardly room for 2 wagons to pass, 

 and was becoming steeper at every turn. 



Looking down the precipitous moun- 

 tain side, at our right, .we could see the 

 river and the rail road nearly a mile below; 

 while on the upper side a deep ditch ran 

 parallel with the road bed. 



Hotter and hotter became the pace. I 

 was in the lead, glorying in the thought of 

 having my chum behind. 



Lying flat on my machine and keeping 

 a sharp outlook for stones and ditches (for 

 I knew what it would mean to strike an 

 obstruction while going at that terrific 

 speed) I glanced along an unusually 

 smooth stretch of road and saw a sight 

 that made my heart stop dead still with a 

 painful thump. My teeth snapped together 

 like a steel trap; for only a few feet ahead, 

 squarely in my course was a deep hole, cut 

 by repeated plunges of heavily loaded 

 wheels. It could not be seen until so close 

 that escape was impossible. 



Stiffening every muscle for the inevita- 

 ble shock, and fully expecting to be dashed 

 into the abyss below, there first came a 

 quick dropping sensation; then a violent 

 lifting jolt and I seemed to be flying in the 

 air. In fact I was flying; for, as I after- 

 ward learned, my' wheel made a jump of 

 over 16 feet, before again touching the 

 ground. 



As it struck the road again, still right 

 side up, something appeared at my left 

 shoulder and the next instant our 2 ma- 

 chines crashed together with terrific force. 

 Amid a smashing, grinding, snapping 

 noise, and a cloud of dust, we slid 30 or 40 

 feet, and gradually came to a stop. 



We were twisted and locked together like 

 Siamese twins. My arm was around the 

 Professor's neck, and my leg through, his 

 rear wheel. He was wound up in both ma- 

 chines in such a way that it took several 

 minutes to pull him out. 



A sharp sting here and there admonished 

 us of several cuts and bruises and of several 

 patches of missing epidermis. 



After extricating ourselves from our bent 

 and broken steeds, which were so badly 

 .twisted together that we had to unscrew 

 some of the nuts, in order to separate them, 

 we both stenned back, folded out arms and 



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