When I was a kid, about 12 years old, my grandmother -bless her- gave me a unicycle for Christmas. I found it ridiculously difficult to learn to ride. My initial discouragement, however, turned to resolve and a few weeks (or maybe months, I forget) of obsess
ion with it, of finding reward in minute bits of progress, resulted in my ability to ride the thing reasonably well.
And man was it fun. Tooling around my neighborhood on my single 24-inch wheel, basking in the glow of what I deemed to be admiration in the minds of curious onlookers -in reality they were probably saying, “look at the nutty kid; he’s gonna break his neck!”- was a real thrill to a boy just then easing awkwardly into adolescence.
I found I could ride up steep Roanoke streets on the unicycle easier than I could on a regular bike, the direct drive -no chain- of the “uni” resulting in a more efficient application of power. And I could turn on a dime on the uni, and ride in reverse, and all with no hands. The more I rode the unicycle the more versatile I found it to be.
Along the way I learned some of the history of the unicycle: That it evolved from the bicycle, specifically the “Penny Farthing” type of bike back in the 1860’s. That bike, with the big wheel in front and the tiny one in the rear was already more unicycle than bicycle. When braked hard the small wheel would levitate off of the ground, leaving the rider with only the big wheel beneath the saddle.
It wasn’t long before tricksters dispensed with the rear wheel entirely and learned to ride the big wheel alone. Thus the unicycle was born and it found a home especially in traveling circuses, fairs, and parades and it was relegated mostly to that realm for a hundred years until a modest -very modest- increase in interest by the general public took hold about the time I started riding.
I loved that uni, and I rode it all the time. As adolescence took root, however, I drifted away from the pursuit, distraction from other quarters – skateboards, cars, girls – competing with uni saddle time. “The next thing I knew,” as the story goes, forty years had breezed on by, with thoughts seldom if ever lingering on the subject of unicycling.
Until recently, that is.
I was exploring the extensive network of trails on Candler Mountain in Lynchburg late last fall, jogging on the varied dirt paths, when I came to a trail intersection where lo and behold there were two guys on unicycles.
A floodgate in my brain opened as the memories of my own uni experiences combined with intense curiosity as to how and why and what these guys were doing…and look at their uni’s! They had fat, knobby tires and heavy-duty frames, cranks, and pedals. My old unicycle, come to think of it, was frail by comparison, and something was always breaking on it.
I excitedly struck up a conversation with Darrell and Shen, and they graciously entertained my questions about the modern state of unicycling, and what it was like to ride on the dirt trails -at times steep and rocky – on their “muni’s” or mountain unicycles.
I learned that the sport is alive and well, with more folks riding uni’s than ever before. Ok, so that’s not saying much. Anyway, people are still doing it, and some are doing extraordinary things with unicycles, besides tackling extremely rugged terrain. Some have undertaken long-distance rides, even going cross-country. Actually, the first known trans-America unicycle ride was completed way back in 1933. Last year a fellow from Charlottesville, Gen Shimizu, rode his mountain unicycle the entire 2755-mile length of the Continental Divide Trail, carrying all his gear with him. I think his rear end must still be recovering.
“I don’t know; it’s been decades…,” I murmured feebly when Darrell encouraged me to give his muni a try as night fell on Candler Mountain. We were back in the parking lot by now, and it was level and relatively smooth. I tentatively mounted the unicycle and wobbled my way thirty feet before I tipped over. Hey, I can still do this! Not very well, but good enough for me to imagine the possibilities. Rediscovering the unicycle: This is going to be fun.
Marybeth and I have three sons, and this Christmas, Santa (ok that would be me; the boys have been full grown for some years now) brought them a muni to pass around while they’re learning to ride. It was my best excuse to get a unicycle back in the family.
I hope they let me ride it.
– John Robinson
