15 years of high-flying fun

It was a crazy idea.

One of those things you think about doing but never actually do.

Unless you're me. I sometimes do those crazy things.

Fifteen years ago I became fascinated by the 1880s Victorian Highwheel.

Highwheels are those outrageous contraptions regarded as the world's first bicycles.

Even more, they're the first machine invented to allow man to use his own power to travel far distance on land.

I saw the highwheel as pure art in motion and always was fascinated when I'd see old highwheel portraits in Victorian photo albums.

My curiosity was piqued when an expert said the sensation of being atop a highwheel is unlike anything else.

"Riding a highwheel is one of the great treasures of life, one that needs to be experienced," said Steve Stevens of Colorado.

That comment was good enough for me. I wanted one.

Problem is, highwheels are extremely rare. Production stopped around 1890, and most eventually were melted as part of the World War I scrap metal drives.

Those that remain are untouchable, hanging in museums.

But I found one in Illinois and forked over several thousand dollars to buy it. My goal was to learn to ride as a gimmick for the 2001 Tamaqua Heritage Festival.

Little did I realize it takes many, many months to acquire balance and become proficient and safe.

To get on, you perform an almost acrobatic leap high into the saddle while the bike is moving forward. Then you catch the pedals as they're turning and all along you must maintain balance. One wrong move and you bite the dust.

To dismount without falling, you must slow down and jump backward while the highwheel is still moving forward.

Challenging. But tons of fun.

I remember practicing on Sundays when roads weren't being used at Tidewood East Industrial Park.

After about a year, I approached Police Chief George Woodward and told him I felt I'd become skilled enough to ride the highwheel on Broad Street, Route 209, in Tamaqua. My big hurdle in those days was having the guts to pedal the monstrosity through the Five Points intersection. But I did it.

I've since taken part in museum presentations and historical events in Maryland, New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania. I was invited to the City of Brotherly Love by Historic Philadelphia Inc., where I rode through Center City to the Liberty Bell, Betsy Ross House and Penn's Landing.

But that's not to say everything's been totally harmless.

In 2007 while doing a ride at Eckley for the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, the highwheel's front wheel hit a deep hole and I flipped over the handlebars - called "taking a header." I broke two bones in my wrist and cracked my ribs. Luckily, time heals all wounds and I was back in the saddle by early 2008.

What I've come to learn is that nothing can top the highwheel for exhilaration. It's a dangerous machine, but unmatched in the thrill category.

Yes, today's bikes are superior in terms of safety. But they don't soar.

That's why kids build ramps and half pipes. They try to give their rides lift. That step isn't necessary with a highwheel.

The amazing highwheel has more lift than an elevator on steroids.

And it taught me a lesson about people of the 1870s and '80s.

Those stuffy old Victorians flew high.

They knew how to have fun.