The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-06-06
SOME TYPES ON WHEELS
SUNDAY AFTERNOON PLEASURE ON
THE WHEELPATH.
Characters Grave and Cay That FIRE.
quent the Beautiful Stretch
Of Shaded Roadway.

regular summer sunday festivals of wheels
on the cycle path. Here more cosmopoli-
tan crowd gathers than at any one of the
theaters. Yesterday the thick dust on the
roads leading to the cycle path was plowed
and powdered from the time the wheelmen
who delight in early morning constitution
al' runs turned into them until the last
midnight rider spun cautiously between the
ruts. The routes to the cycle path are
many, and each is marked by track kept
hard and smooth and dust free by the rub
bling of tires. The habitual cycle-path rider
picks his way along well-known lines. He
has mapped out in his mind the turns to
avoid the ruts and the easy paths on the
roads that lead to the common destination.
He sweeps around telegraph poles and trees
with the assurance that he will not fall into
hole, for he has been that way many times
before The other rider, the one who only
occasionally uses the cycle path founders
through the dust, or, when the graveled
track of the crank is struck, DIVORCES
sometimes and bumps into a rut. But on
the cycle path proper all are on common
ground, and the course is so clearly laid
that the frequenter has but only a shade,
If that, advantage over the casual visitor.
Yesterdays weather was very warm, and
cyclists when they dismounted from their
wheels and were no longer famed by the
air through which they had been flying,
were seized by fever of heat which forced
out the perspiration, causing them to gaze
longingly into the cool depths of the canal
and the river.
II like to sit here" said the old-time
wheelman, as he put his bicycle in the rack
and sank down on the bench opposite the
Country Club house. hopping his face, land
watch EN- go by. 1 get more pleasure out
of that than riding myself" He then pro-
ceeded-like cow farther south along the
path, which lay in the shade, chewing con-
tentedly, and bearing in her face mild
philosophic look, as if so many wheelmen
had passed her that she had grown able to
distinguish the different classes-to examine
like scientist the different types as they
passed him. The greater part of the cyclists
on the path are those who have in it FREE
quently visited recreation ground and have
lost any peculiar style of riding or dress
which calls to them particular attention
They enjoy the easy riding that the cinder
roadway affords, the fresh foliage of the
trees, the country air and the companion
ship of others whose interest in these things
is as deep as their own. This class forms
stream flowing north along the path in the
early afternoon toward Broad Ripple and
another flowing south in the evening toward
the city. Whether they stop off at Fair
view, Bellevue or Broad Ripple, they seem
to have regular hours of going and coming
The difference between women riders
shows more conspicuousy than that be-
tween men. There is the woman who sits
her wheel as if she had studied the best
riding position, who keeps her head well
up, wears a cool costume of appropriate
color and build, and shows in her manner
that she enjoys riding. There is another
who appears as if she is riding because it
is a sacrifice laid out for her as penance
for some fault or is a part of scheme of
hygiene which her physician has prescribed
for her. and is as dsagreeable to take as
cod-liver oil. Her saddle is too low and
set too far back. She wears. possibly a
black silk skirt and fancy waist. Her
skirt is long and is held down by rubber
Straps, which cause it to catch her heels.
Her face is flushed with exertion and her
mouth open to take all the air in crcula-
ton. She may be dutifully following her
husband and thinking that that Mrs. P1llsby
much about the delight of road runs is not
outdoing her But it hard, hard work
The novice dismounts from his wheel awk-
Wardly at the rendezvous across the canal
from the Country Club grounds, where
White duck and GOODNESS seem to form a
halo, and his knees bend under him in help
lessness, for he has taken advantage of his
second wind in the last stretch of straight
path from Fairview and let himself out. He
dives for the steps which lead to Golden
Hill springs below and slips and stumbles
down in frantic haste to get at the water
He drinks deep and signs with satisfaction
as he wipes his mouth and gazes across the
river at the boy laying on his back on the
other side waiting for the suckers to bite.
II the novice were only at home, sitting on
the porch In his shirt sleeves waiting for
supper!
To the scorcher, who ignores the signs
Ride with Moderate Speed on this Path
thinks thoughts like ooh, Death, where is
thy sting" when he just escapes slipping
into the canal because he has shaved by
Sunday afternoon on the path is time of
grim and fiendish joy in which he wires
The small boy who looks in his glass every
morning to see If he grows more to look
like Jimmy Michael the little Welshman,
who distorts his face so horribly in his
great victories, follows just behind the
scorcher and brags to his playmates next
day that he will enter the 'under-sixteen-
year-old" races at the butchers picnic.
Then there is the man who sits at desk
all week, not bookkeeper, but lone of the
head men of some concern: He rides sys-
tematically, as he tells his subordinates
they must do their work. His wheel is
cleaned carefully on a set day each week,
and he rides just so long every day and at
a never-increaSing never diminishing rate
of speed. He detests the lowered handle
bar and wears a Wheelway League button
WHICn entities MIN TO use the cycle pdIIl all
his life.
During all the hum of voices and the buzz
of chains there runs an undertone of the
cinders crushing under the wheels 1t
browns out the voices of a party as 1T goes
and another comes. like the ambitious bass
in an ill-trained choir, whose roar brushes
the tenor when a swell is marked in the
music. This is the effect of the combina-
ton:
Say that girls pretty as a peach. amt
She"
Whir-r-r-r siz-z-z-z
"Oh. don't know; she's not so warm.
wish you're a--whir-r-r-r, stz-z-z-z-seen that
girl that-zip, uZZ-Z-Z-another party cuts
around the curve and the noise of its wheels
smothers out the conversation of the first.
And thus all afternoon the path is a swiftly
moving play of bicyclists who leave nothing
connected or definite with the outsider.
AS the afternoon wears away more wheel
men go south than north until the supply
at Broad Ripple and Fairview and the
other stopping places is exhausted. AS
darkness falls the true beauty of the path
and its surroundings shows itself and there
those who declare that the wheelman
who does not ride the cycle path at night
does not get half out of the sport of cycling
that there is in it.
Cyclist Charles Baird Dead.
CHICAGO, June 5.-Charles Baird, a we'll
known writer on sporting subjects and an
authority on cycling and golf, died to-day
from injuries received in bicycle accident
two weeks ago. He was found lying the
L. 4 4