editorials The Invention of the Unicycle

[Initiate 1,306]

 

“You only have one weel choice,” said the sales rep, flaunting his curious accent in the process. “You have far less than the wequired amount for any new bicycle — or even a second-hand one in good condition.”

 

My heart fell — I had been saving up for a while to get a solid bike, and there was a deadline. My new training group was starting up soon, and you had to have a bike or you couldn’t join for an entire year.

I had the money beforehand. I was ready for that. Of course, I had an older bike that I could use, but I wanted a new one. But the successive thievery of both my bike and a significant amount of money had left me unable to get into the group, and I was downcast.

 

“Don’t worry though, son. As I said, we have an option for you. This fine bike — wusted, yes… but still a bike,” said the salesman, obviously hoping for a sale but clearly knowing that the likelihood that I (or anyone, for that matter) would buy that bike was extremely low.

 

He had no idea, did he? Here was my ticket to the group, and I could easily save up for a higher-quality bike later on.

 

“I’ll take it,” I said.

 

“Okay, but I’ll warn you it’s not that sturdy…” he replied less than eagerly. He really wanted that juicy commission he would receive with a sale.

 

“I’ll take it,” I said again - slightly impatiently. I needed that bike quick.

 

After forking over the cash and taking possession of the bike, I inspected it once more, though I already had done that. I knew he hadn’t been lying, and was even over-praising it. The front wheel was nearly falling off; the left handlebar was practically non-existent — but it was a bike. And that made my mind drift to the horribly arbitrary rule that one had to have a bicycle to join the group… or more accurately, that one couldn’t join the group midway through the year. It wasn’t competitive or anything, just a casual group of cyclists riding together.

 

As I was musing about this, I pulled into the driveway of my quaint single-family bungalow and hauled the bike out of the bed of his truck. I had been in such a rush for this pile of rusted metal because the first registration meeting for the cycling group took place that day, and there was no way I would miss it.

 

What better way to get to the meeting than ride to it? It was a short 15 minute drive, meaning that I would be able to do it in around 40 minutes on the bike. I slipped out of my jeans and changed into some light clothes — I‘d need them in the sweltering 40-degree heat of Texas. I hopped on and rolled down the driveway, somewhat deficient as braking went, but fine in other aspects. The bike was decent, and afforded a pleasant ride in most aspects, until around 20 minutes through. Then came the downhill. Then came disaster.

Rolling at a decently fast speed down an incline, I felt the front wheel shaking. But what could I do? The brakes were less than could be wished for, and there was essentially no way to slow down my descent. Finally, I reached the bottom. Still travelling at high speeds though, the front wheel was now halfway off the wheel… three quarters off… I tried my last hope — a wheelie on the back wheel. Hopefully I could pull it off for long enough to come to a stop. But even before I did that, my mind jumped to the stupidity of riding this bike anywhere.

 

Leaping backwards, I shifted my weight to the rear of the bike. Just in time, fortunately. I was already slowing down, but it’s never very comfortable to fall from a bike, at any speed. And the front wheel was literally peeling itself away from the hub just as I entered a wheelie. Then the most insane thing happened. The bike began to actively fall apart — and it was hardly a bike anymore.

 

There were a bunch of things that salesman hadn’t told me. For instance, the seat was (for some obscure reason) actually on a fixed hinge that was capable of moving if unwound. The brakes were also on a moveable sleeve that was capable of sliding down the top tube towards the seat. Both these components were usually fixed in place, but having been in storage for roughly half a decade had not assisted the bolts in staying in place, and the seat began to tilt forward under the weight of the wheelie, while the brakes slid backward towards the seat due to the incline of the bike. And then… the entire front piece came off. The left handlebar fell off of the main piece (it was already almost gone) and it got caught in the wheel, ripping the wheel off which in turn cracked the welding of the front frame and pulled the braking mechanism off from the front.

 

Suddenly, I found myself barely balancing with a bike that only had one wheel and a seat that was facing straight up with the wheel directly beneath it — and the ineffective brakes were below that seat. My position was indeed perilous… but then my mind did a u-turn and drifted back to the salesman’s words… “you only have one weel choice,” he said, exchanging “R”s with “W”s. But was there any more bitter irony? My choice had truly become one-wheel, accent aside.

 

After quickly dismounting as soon as I could, I stepped back to inspect my new one-wheeler. In all honesty, it looked pretty nice. Of course, I definitely couldn’t ride the thing and had no clue how I’d stayed on so long. I was essentially stranded, and so I began walking with the intact part of my bike in hand, hoping a car would pass by. In about 5 minutes of walking, I noticed a trail of dust forming in the distance and a car shortly emerged. Waving it down, I requested a ride back to my house — the meeting would have to wait, because it was out of the drivers’ way. He caught sight of my dilapidated former bicycle… and was immediately entranced.

 

“Can you ride that thing?” he asked, looking at me expectantly.

 

“Not in the slightest, actually,” I quipped. “Somehow my bike was converted into this wreck after it fell apart on a downhill.”

“Would you learn to ride it for, say, $500?”

 

This was getting serious. “Of course!” I said promptly — $500 was easily enough for a quality bike. What was he getting at though?

 

“I think that would look great in a circus — I run a circus in Minnesota, if you were curious. I’m here on vacation, and also to search for new pieces of equipment to make our shows more interesting. If you’re fine to learn to ride this thing within a week, I’ll give you $500 — and a new bike, because it looks like you’ll need one. I’ll also take this prototype of sorts back to where I live, and make it into a real thing. Does that sound like a plan?”

 

“Of course, sir.” I replied. We were now pulling into the driveway of my house. “Shall we meet again here on, say, next Wednesday at 5 PM?”

 

“Sounds good,” he replied.

 

My first action was to tighten the bolts holding the seat in its awkward place — I wouldn’t want it falling mid-ride. Then I set to it immediately. The chance of a true bike at no cost to me was good enough to warrant some significant time spent on it. Moreover, it was lucky that I happened to have the week off work because of a fire at the establishment.

 

Over the week, I managed to get good enough to ride a couple feet on flat ground, proving that it was possible to do it. My friend the circus manager made good on his promise of paying me the money, and took my “unicycle” (named by him) back to Minnesota where it stood as a relic of the chain of events until his unfortunate death, only three years later.

 

 

Now, looking back on that whole affair with the invention of the unicycle, well-nigh 30 years ago, I can’t help but thinking of the hilarity of the circumstances. A bad bike, a chance meeting — and now the unicycle is a recognized symbol of circuses around the country.

 

And I invented it.

 

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So guys, this is the last you'll hear from me possibly forever. I'm leaving Tanki (I don't want to, I have to). I hope I can come back in a couple months/years, but otherwise, this is it. I've given up my unofficial Candidate spot as an eSports Reporter and I won't be playing anymore.

It was nice knowing ya'll. Thanks to everyone who knew me for helping me along the way, and if we're lucky maybe I'll see you again. If we don't, well then, goodbye!

[kaisdf 3,320]

From the pen of a brilliant AWS writer comes this, a hilarious tale about a bicycle ride gone wrong!

[Devoid 2,601]

Unfortunate to see that the writer has since left the game... 

It was a very nice piece of writing!

[cube3e 1,973]

I failed English Lang