The Brookhaven leader. [volume] (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1883-1891, 1883-05-24
A BICYCLE STORY.
Fearful Ride Down a Mountain.

Fearful Ride Down a Mountain.
Our mine, the Spondulix, of Colo
RADIO, was the, highest on the range. 1t
was 2,670 feet above Silver Brick Sta
ton, and nine miles distant from the
village. From the works up to the
mines there was broad, hard, smooth
road, used for carting ore down from
the mines and hauling supplies up.
The average grade down the mountain
was three hundred feet to the mile; in
some places it was considerably sleeper,
and at intervals almost level. The road
was made partly on the bare rock, and
wound up narrow gulch; presently it
climbed outside the chasm, and here at
several places the road-bed had been
blasted out of the solid rock, or cut into
the perpendicular side of the mountain; /;
hut everywhere the road was almost as
smooth and hard as a floor. Knowing
that loose stone might cost the lives
of both teamster and team, where some
times the brakes would not entirely
check the descent of an ore-wagon. un-
til one of the nearly-level places had
been reached, the teamsters were care
full to keep the surface of the road clean
and smooth.
BY constant practice l managed at
last to ride my 52-inch "University''
roadster up the whole slope to the
Spondulix, of course resting at levels,
but my chief delight was the coasting
down again; it required skill, a good
deal of nerve, and firm grasp of the
brake.
One evening an accident occurred to
one of those engaged at the mine.
instantly got out my bicycle, explain
ing that l could 60 swifter than horse
down the slope. In a few minutes
had on my riding-suit and was of.
The night was clear and crisp; the
full moon, except in few curves,
shone directly into the gulch, lighting
up the road. Leaning well back, with
my legs over the handles, and firm
finger on the brake, allowed the wheel
to glide down the first long slope at a
speed which l never dared to venture
before. Finding the motion safe, al
lowed the machine to run faster, and
still faster. Over the first level shot
like an arrow. Down the next slope l
seemed to glide on the rushing wind.
Then turned a curve and ran into the
shadow of the mountain upon the next
level Knowing every inch of the road
however, l did not slacken speed except
slightly.
As flew over the top of the next slope,
a steep plunge of nearly half mile, an
other curve completely shut out the
moon, making the road almost as dark
rs pocket. Here l put down
the brake hard, and checked my speed
materially. Still l knew the road so
we'll that had no fear. But Just as 1
was upon the steepest plunge of the
slope
Clink!
Something few from the machine
like bullet. Instantly the wheel dart
ed forward like the rush of frightened
bird, while the brake lever came home
TO the steering-bar under my finger.
The brake had broken short off in the
elbow&
There was nothing to check the ma
chine, which was running away with
me, with over five miles of mountain
grade before me, and the chance of
meeting team any moment in the
dark. might have leaped backward
off the machine at the instant of the
break, but five seconds afterwards it
was too late. To attempt a dismount
would be certain death. There was
nothing to do but stick to the saddle
and take my chances.
Within thirty seconds the machine had
acquired a velocity never before ex-
perienced by mortal rider. The sensa-
ton was like that of falling through the
air. The rush of the atmosphere past
ME was like fearful gale. The wheel
no longer felt the inequalities of the
road. 1t seemed to glide smoothly over
perfect plane. felt no sense of
shocks from pebbles, or hollows, or
protuberances. In fact, / believe that
there were many places, especially
when 1 shot over the brow of sleeper
incline, where the whole machine took
flying hop, or rather a long, skim
ming glide through the air, without
touching the road.
1t was lucky that had practiced SO
much coasting down this very road, and
that knew every inch of 1t SO thorough
ly. Going at that amazing speed, lean
ing far back in the saddle, the steering
was somewhat novel and peculiar. The
speed gave the wheel such an obstinate
disposition to keep ON a straight line
that could not have turned short
curve if had tried. A very little too
much turning of the steering-bar would
have wrenched it instantly from my
hands, and smashed the wheels TO frag-
ments. But my practice had taught me
the necessity of making my curves long
and easy when coasting at great speed;
and by instinct my grasp upon the
steering-bar was that of desperation,
both my arms being kept as firm, yet
flexible. as spring steel,