Cycling the Coming Fad in Ashland.

Democratic Times, May 8, 1891 et seq., page 3

    The number of bicycles is getting to be so large in town that a club is talked of.
"Medford Squibs," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, May 13, 1892, page 2

Frank Lenz

The Bicycle Tourist.

He Swiped a 'Cycle.

Bicycle Riding.

D. L. RICE.       

May 26, 1893 Democratic Times

A Pointer for Bicycle Riders.

Medford Mail, July 14, 1893, page 1

Now Is the Time to Invest.

Medford Mail, July 28, 1893, page 2

Parker Won the Race.

New in Grants Pass--Old in Medford.

    Up to the present time, no matter what may be the future changes, the chief claim of the bicycle upon our consideration is its utility as a means of rational and wholesome pastime and pleasurable recreation. While it is put to many uses purely economical in a business sense, still the balance is overwhelming on the side of mere amusement.
    Nor is this to be reckoned against it in our calculation. We Americans especially need to have play forced upon us; we are too much given over to constant money-grubbing and the feverish pursuit of sordid ambitions. There is small danger that we will fall too far in the direction of recreation and healthful pastime. Certainly the bicycle is a delightful source of emotion; it sends up through the rider an exhilaration indescribably comforting to weary nerves--and just here arise both the pro and the con of our argument.
    If to ride moderately is pleasing, to ride faster is charming, and to speed like the wind is intoxicating. The habit grows, the fascination gets [a] deeper and deeper hold, until, like all other overdone sports or pastimes, it becomes an almost incurable mania. The incorrigible scorcher is already scarcely less a nuisance in our streets and roads than the drunkard and the professional beggar. He casts a malign shadow over the whole subject of wheeling and forces right-minded people to shrink from public appearance on their wheels. The same or more may be said about a certain class of women and girls who for one reason or another choose to make bicycle riding an excuse for immodest and outlandish attire. Instead of honestly adapting costume neatly and becomingly to the needs of wheeling, they rush to the extreme suggested by a necessary change. Here a great question of public taste and morals forces itself into our minds, and it is not too early to give it serious attention.
    Overexertion is very hurtful to organic life. Mere waste is healthful if natural and promptly compensated by recuperation. Bodily exercise cannot go beyond the limit of safety without permanent injury to vital centers. This well-known law is too frequently broken by bicycle riders, especially the young and strong ones who feel keenly the sweet exhilaration of rapid movement under circumstances novel and peculiarly fascinating. A rich crop of diseases is sure to be reaped by these reckless sowers.
    Doubtless wisdom will control in the long run, wherefore it seems safe to take an optimistic view of the great wheeling epoch. Observation has led us to think that our young people are adapting themselves in the main with great good sense to the conditions imposed by their new means of enjoyment. It is comforting to the taste and a rare delight to the artistic perception to see them out of an evening, gliding along so silently and smoothly, skimming the roads as swallows skim the streams. Where there is so much fascination and so little urge toward evil surely the outcome must be good.--Chautauquan.

    When Horton said he had no trouble learning to ride a bicycle--just got on and rode right off--I believed him. Some people are too prosaically clever to ever half enjoy life, and Horton belongs to this class. I do not. When I became possessed of a brand-new "bike," I knew I was going to have trouble, and nerved myself therefor. I was not mistaken. I did have trouble.
    Horton said he would come over and help me learn to ride. That's the trouble with clever people. I knew how Horton would help me to learn to ride. All clever people adopt the same methods.
    He would lead the wheel out into the smooth road with an air of supreme mastery, steady it for me to mount, and, having enticed me to a seat on the treacherous machine, deliver himself in this wise:
    "Now, take good hold of the handles--no, not too tight--they won't get away--just grasp them lightly but firmly; now put both feet on the pedals--steady now--don't be afraid, and--keep your balance." Then he tips the machine over to an angle of 75 degrees, gives me a start, and away I go. Now a bicycle that's well trained and knows it's mounted by a man who is its master would just as likely go at an angle of 75 degrees as any other way--I know because I have since taken pains to experiment. Not so a green and stubborn wheel that conceives it to be its duty to take the conceit out of a novice. Such a machine must be ridden exactly upright, both feet must sit exactly the same on the pedals, the handlebars must be grasped just so, and a thousand precautions must be taken that would cause that same wheel to feel insulted a month later.
    That's why my machine don't go the way my clever instructor had calculated. Instead it makes one or two miserable wobbles, turns into the only rough piece of road in the vicinity, shakes itself uncomfortably a couple of times, and then smashes into the ground with a force entirely unwarranted by the degree of momentum it has attained while comparatively upright.
    Then my friend comes up with a look of pained surprise on his face, as though I'd been going through all these maneuvers on purpose to disregard his instructions. He shows me just where the course I have pursued is diametrically opposed to his directions. Particularly he remarks that I must endeavor to keep my equilibrium. I thank him, perhaps facetiously, because a vigorous fall is not calculated to improve the temper, and remark that if he had only suggested that before it would have saved all the trouble. Then he gets offended, and I have to apologize. Then we try again.
    This time I am tired and disgusted. My knowing instructor is perfectly cool, but much more disgusted than myself. He insists that I am about the worst pupil he has ever seen. Then he discovers that he has an engagement and must leave. I thank him presumably for helping me with the wheel, really for going. As he disappears from sight I take the wheel back to the house, slam the door on it, viciously, and seek a place where I can rest and reflect.
    Maybe I did Horton an injustice, but that's about the way I imagined that he would help me to learn to ride. I told him I didn't think I'd have any trouble; besides I had almost decided to make my first trial at night. This moonlight ride idea of mine was one I had thought of long before I purchased the wheel. I love the moonlight. To me it seems most singularly fit that lovelorn youths should swear "by yon pale moon." There is no truth in Luna. She lies, she flatters and exaggerates. And yet we all must love her, for her falsehoods are of kindness. She draws the veil of charity over our shortcomings. The crude, unsightly nooks and crevices the sun, truth's mighty ally, delights to show, she passes by or touches with soft romantic light that makes the very things we most dislike by day at night seem beautiful. There is no stretch of nature's handiwork so mean, so rough and so devoid of charm but, touched by this divine magician's power, may be transformed into a fairy land.
    I take my wheel out into the broad avenue that passes the house. The moonlight shimmers through the leaves of the tall poplars that align the road. A gentle breeze makes the leaves rustle and dance. The tall trees quiver; and, save for the rubbing of the branches and the soft murmur of the winds, all is silent. A sovereign feeling of independence possesses me. The world is sleeping. I am alone with nature and the delights of night are mine. I mount my wheel triumphantly and start down the vista that stretches before me. My wheel skims like a bird over the smooth road. I emerge from the tree-lined avenue to an open country, where broad grain fields stretch away into the hazy distance. The deceptive moonlight lends to the waving grain the appearance of a vast lake. My eyes drink in the beauty of the scene, and the fresh, bracing atmosphere fills me with a peculiar intoxication. I throw back my chest, drink deep the airy nectar. I feel as though I would like to scream, sing, anything to vent my exuberance--
    Horton said I couldn't learn to ride at night. I'd be everlastingly running into chuckholes and other obstacles, and if I didn't break my neck (which didn't so much matter), I would probably cause the bicycle irreparable damage. That's the way with Horton. Whenever I get any particularly attractive idea he always spoils it with some of his practical suggestions. Now, if his suggestions were not practical it wouldn't be so bad. I don't a bit mind suggestions from friends, when I can show them the utter folly of acting upon them, but it is not so with Horton. Whenever he makes a suggestion I have learned by experience that that particular suggestion had better be heeded. I never forgive him for spoiling my plans, but I find it prudent to act on his advice, so this time I sadly put away my idea of making my first trip on a wheel a nocturnal one. I must face the ordeal in the cruel veracity of sunlight.
    I never could quite understand how everyone in the neighborhood found out that on that particular day I was going to make my first attempt at conquering the unruly spirit of a soulless mechanism. It was after nightfall when I brought the wheel home. I thought the secret was my own, and all things seemed propitious to a quiet contest between the wheel and myself, in which I should have won the laurels before the neighbors were apprised that the battle was on. To further ensure this result I had for several days studied the manners of veteran riders, especially when leading their wheels. I flattered myself I had this pretty near perfection. As I led the wheel out to the street I even stopped to examine a spoke critically, in precisely the manner I had seen an expert do the day before. It was in vain. The audience was in waiting.
    The prospect, as I looked up and down the street, appalled me. Every door and window seemed to have its occupants, Women waited patiently on front porches. Men lounged lazily over front gates. I don't believe that there was a house within four blocks that didn't have a man about it. And then--horrors! the street seemed infested with small boys. The small boy knows instinctively at what particular time and place a man is about to make a fool of himself, and he usually manages to be on hand to add zest to the performance. His comments on such occasions are not original, witty or wise, but are woefully effective.
    I believe I am a brave man. I once voluntarily acted as judge of debate in a young ladies' literary society, and I stand ready, for a sufficient inducement, to be one of a committee on awards at a baby show. Nevertheless, this once I was frightened. Not at the wheel. I had an affectionate contempt for that airy-looking skeleton of wood and steel, but I object to being stared at, particularly when I feel as if I am going to make an exhibition of myself.
    I put one foot firmly on the step, hopped along on the other, in the regulation style and stepped up. Now, I am certain that I had that wheel balanced all right. I had raised myself with extraordinary care, and if the wheel had been a steady-going machine of a year or so's service, it would have been all right. This was a new wheel, though, and its chief characteristic was concentrated villainy.
    That's why, just as I got my foot well off the ground and was putting my sole dependence on the step, the thing lunged over. I expected to see the wheel broken to pieces, but it was not injured. It had a mission to perform yet, and could not afford to break until it had accomplished it. That mission was to preach to me the doctrine of the total depravity of inanimate things.
    After picking up the wheel I looked around at my audience. I hardly expected applause, but thought I might reasonably look for mirth. I was even prepared to laugh heroically with them, but not a smile was visible. They all seemed interested, but not amused. They were reserving their merriment.
    The next time I had better luck. I succeeded in getting on the seat. This made it more interesting for the spectators, because when the wheel lunged, ran around in [a] circle and then collapsed, the situation was a good deal more ridiculous. As a source of amusement I saw it was going to be a success. After this fall, the men who had been lounging on the front gates sauntered up to where I was. The small boys, who had been viewing operations from a respectful distance, also drew around me. I was at the flood tide of my misery.
    I no longer regarded the bicycle as a soulless thing of steel, nickel and wood. It was a treacherous and emphatically animate monster to be put down at any cost. I grasped it savagely, placed it roughly in position and mounted. It threw me, but I tried again. I had forgotten the audience. The men advised, the boys jeered and the women laughed; I heard, I saw, but did not heed. I was mad. I was going to do or die, and several times the chances seemed greatly with the second alternative.
    At last I got the wheel to go around. A thrill of joy went through me. I saw the landscape slip by. I felt myself passing rapidly through space. The crowd which I had feared I now disdained. I was leaving them far behind. I felt that until that moment I had not known life. The hitherto existing relation of space to time was radically altered. It was almost as though a new world had been opened to me, and chief among all my delights was victory. On I spun over the fine country road; at last I was master--
    I ought to have noticed that gravel bed. Exaltation is a good thing in its place, but its place is not astride a brand-new wheel. I picked myself up laboriously. The wheel was only partially ruined. Just a matter of bent pedals and crimped handlebars. I was a good deal worse used up myself, but that didn't matter. I had conquered the wheel, and henceforth I knew I would be master of that or any other wheel; and I am.--Outing.

    J. A. Whitman reports the sale of eighteen Crescent wheels last week.
    Geo. Kurtz is getting to be quite a scorcher, notwithstanding the fact that he only has use for one pedal.
    Bloomers have been laid aside by most all lady bicyclists, and the demand for the drop-frame wheel is much greater this year than last.
    A. S. Bliton has purchased an Ajax wheel from Boyden & Nicholson, and if he can get enough nerve and time together he will learn to ride.
    Sixty wheelers were arrested in one evening in Portland last week for violating the ordinance regulating speed and requiring lamps after night.
    Merchant A. N. Berlin rides one of those new wood frames, and is as proud of it as a boy with a new pair of boots. The wheel was purchased from Mitchell, Lewis & Staver Co.
    The demand for wheels this year is much greater than last. Prices are considerably lower, which fact places them within the reach of a greater number of people, and the result is a greatly increased sale.
    Billie Bates has purchased a Phoenix racer from D. T. Lawton, agent for the Mitchell, Lewis & Staver Company. Deputy County Treasurer Lindley has also purchased a wood frame Brabe from the same agency.
    Right now is a good time to agitate for the building of a bicycle track between Medford and Jacksonville. Each city has a large number of bicyclists, and a good track connecting the two towns would be a source of great pleasure to them.
    It will be some time before the road to the river will be in good riding order, especially the "sticky" portion of it, but the most of that lies between this city and Central Point, and that run can be made on the S.P. track.
    It is expected that a sufficient portion of the Southern Oregon Fair Association's track will be completed this week to permit of taking a spin on the wheel. It is a nice ride out to the grounds and one that will be enjoyed by a large number during the coming season.
    The wheelmen of Oregon City propose to make a test case of a recent accident to a rider caused by a teamster refusing to give him a reasonable right of way on a public road. The teamster is determined to fight the charge preferred, and the result is awaited with interest by all bicyclists.
    Portland wheelmen are agitating [for] the building of a track from that city to the snow line on Mt. Hood. It has been suggested that the track be built of dressed plank one foot wide and laid lengthwise--five planks wide. This would make a splendid track and one on which it would be a pleasure to ride.
    A party of Medford's bicycle enthusiasts were in Jacksonville Sunday afternoon, and while "resting" John Dyar and Geo. Neuber borrowed a wheel each from a couple of the boys presumably to take a turn around a block, but they failed to turn until they reached Medford--and they were fortunate enough to reach this city in time to take the train home. John said he was completely "give out," and "Bum" took a header, resulting in the loss of three-quarters of an acre of cuticle on his left knee and a large rent in new $7 pants.
    Wheelmen should be careful about riding on the sidewalks and not violate the ordinance regulating such riding else they be deprived of the right, and that would cause a large heap of inconvenience. The names of several bicycle riders who "scorch" on the sidewalks have been reported to the city council, and unless this scorching is promptly stopped these parties as well as all other riders will be prohibited from riding on any of the sidewalks. The streets are now in excellent shape for riding, and there is no need for using the sidewalks. If the marshal was to arrest a few of the violators and the recorder fine them $10 each, the practice might in this way be stopped.
Medford Mail, April 16, 1897, page 6


    Two young men in gray bicycle suits passed through town on wheels Friday labeled "Post Intelligencer from Seattle to  San Francisco on a Fowler." They got as far as Bloody Run when one of them "took a header" and smashed his wheel. They loaded their bicycles on to the train Saturday morning and took it the rest of the way on Mr. Huntington's set of wheels.
"The Week's Jottings," Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, May 27, 1897, page 3


    Among the many industries and enterprises of Medford, the establishment of Mr. J. A. Whitman is one of the most prominent. Mr. Whitman is sole agent for the famed Crescent bicycle, which, without doubt, stands at the head today among the many different makes. He handles this wheel exclusively, because he considers it the best, and being an expert in this line, he is fully competent to judge. He is also agent for the celebrated Studebaker wagons and carriages, which are so well and favorably known that comment is unnecessary.
    Mr. Whitman is one of the largest buyers of Oregon fruit and ships in car lots to Chicago and Southern points. With the present prospects of the large crop he will probably ship 100 cars of fruit this season.
"Our Business and Professional People Briefly Mentioned," Medford Mail, May 28, 1897, page 3


    Constable Blackwood has purchased a new bike. While trying to break the thing to ride, it became unmanageable, throwing him against a fence, bruising him somewhat.
"Phoenix Clips," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, January 10, 1898, page 3


    That bicycle intent at punism was all right had Bliton [editor of the Medford Mail] agreed to allow it to run in the usual trail of an April fool joke, but he didn't--hence the fun that was to have been was transformed into a real live business proposition of tremendous proportions. It was like this: On the morning of April 1st Bliton tied his bicycle to a convenient hitching post in front of the Hotel "Shorty" [Shorty Hamilton--proprietor of the Nash Hotel]. J. H. Bellinger and his able aide, Mr. Milligan, figured that it would be a real sport to "soak" Bliton's wheel for a few "schooners" of beverage, and they had a real immense laugh at our expense--which laugh and the consequent results were something after the pattern of the sport which our grandfathers used to tell us that an Irishman had with a bull. To shorten our story we will say that upon a certain bright, sunshiny Monday morning, the first one following April 1st, Mr. Milligan led Bliton's wheel from behind Court Hall's bar [the Turf Exchange, at Main and Front] to The Mail office door and there left it--and Bliton paid not a cent of the debt contracted when the wheel was left as collateral security to quench an April fool thirst--but, upon the debt side of our ledger on a page where J. H. Bellinger's name appears at the head is found this item: "To use bicycle three days, at $1.50 per day--$4.50." There is, our readers will observe, a genuine joke connected with this affair, but there has a mist gathered over Mr. Bellinger's eyes and he sees it not a little bit.
"City Happenings," Medford Mail, April 15, 1898, page 7    Translation: Bellinger and Milligan "borrowed" Bliton's bike to use as collateral for some beer, but when they returned it Bliton billed them for approximately three days' wages.


    Prof. Day Parker has been re-engaged as principal of the South Ashland School. He is making rapid progress as an educator and never fails to give satisfaction.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, June 20, 1898, page 3

    "Babe" and Frank Shields, two very clever trick bicycle riders and balancers, gave a pleasing display of their abilities Tuesday in two performances before Hotel Nash, showing to large audiences and receiving in return liberal compensation in the way of contributions.
"City Happenings," Medford Mail, May 18, 1900, page 7

    The new bicycle path law which went into effect Tuesday, with an emergency clause attached, authorizes county courts to construct bicycle paths and to levy a license tax of $1 upon each person riding a bicycle in the county. The act provides for the issuance of a tag similar to that issued under the old law. It is made unlawful for any person to ride a bicycle upon a bicycle path without having paid the license tax. The sheriff is authorized to seize a bicycle and sell the same as upon execution, in order to realize the amount of the tax. The law also requires that every bicycle shall be provided with a bell and at night with a good light. Bicycle paths constructed under the old law are declared to be bicycle paths under the provisions of the fact. It is expected that this act will be legal, in that it provides a license for riding, and not a tax upon the bicycle.
Medford Mail, March 1, 1901, page 2

    Last Monday Bob Swinden took a notion he could make more money as a trick bicycle rider for Barnum & Bailey, so he tried fancy riding down the hill, with the result that Lon Applegate carried him home. Bob says he don't think circuses are any good anyway.--Gold Hill News.
Medford Mail, August 25, 1905, page 8


    There is an ordinance in the city of Medford which prohibits the riding of bicycles on our sidewalks. This ordinance is being violated, nearly every day--by boys mostly. Arrests will surely be made if the practice is not stopped. Especially is this ordinance violated on gravel walks, which do not seem to be considered by the riders as sidewalks. The habit is more dangerous to pedestrians because of the fact that they know of the ordinance and do not expect to meet or be run down by bicyclists.
"City Happenings," Medford Mail, May 25, 1906, page 5


    Chief of Police Charles Turpin has been warning the offenders of the ordinance forbidding the use of sidewalks by bicycle riders, and in the future those who are found riding their machines on sidewalks will be prosecuted. Lately there has been a great deal of this going on, and the Chief thinks that it is time it is stopped.
"City Happenings," Medford Mail, March 13, 1908, page 5


    From Victor McDaniel and Ray Francisco, the "Press Democrat's Seattle Exposition Bicycle Team," two interesting diary letters have come to hand. The boys have been having a hard time of it getting over mountain grades and have had their share of "tire troubles," as will be seen from a perusal of their letters. The last letter from Grants Pass, Oregon, is full of interesting detail, which will be read by their many friends in Santa Rosa. These two lads, making their way to the Seattle fair, have attracted much notice, and very often the Press Democrat receives calls from their friends to know how they are getting along. Here are the letters:
    Ashland, Oregon, Aug. 27.--We had such a hard job pushing our wheels from Sisson to Weed through the land that we concluded to rest a while at Weed. We heard that roads were hardly passable from there through the mountains for a bicycle so we thought we would take the train to Ashland. In the meantime we worked in the sash and door factory of the Weed Lumber Company so as to earn enough for carfare to Ashland, as we did not care to use any out of our own pockets for that purpose. We bought our tickets for the 12:20 train Thursday. There were two divisions; one ten minutes behind the first. We wanted to ship our bicycles all packed, because it was much trouble to unpack them. But the first division did not carry baggage, and we found out from the brakeman that we would have to take everything off. We led our bikes off to one side of the track and took everything off and put it in one large bundle. We only had ten minutes to do all this in and we had to have them checked. The train whistled for the station and the baggage man was busy. But we managed to get everything on and pay the charges of twenty-five cents extra on each bicycle for shipping them over the line. As the train pulled out we took one long farewell look at Mt. Shasta. We had become quite well acquainted with this massive lump of dirt, for we had slept within plain view of it for five nights.
    For about thirty minutes there was a gradual slope downwards into Shasta Valley. This little valley is rich with cattle and grain. These results are obtained by irrigation. We passed through the small towns of Edgewood, Gazelle and Montague. From here the land became rolling, and a little farther on we crossed the Klamath River and stopped at Hornbrook, where an extra engine was coupled on. The climbing began from here at an elevation of about 1890 feet, and within two hours and a half we passed the 4,000 mark. As most everyone knows, the trip through the Siskiyous is one not to be forgotten. First came the low, dry hills, covered with very spare vegetation, next the timber, and here the beauty of the Siskiyous began. A steady climb upwards was encountered. We found this to be one of the most crooked roads on the coast. Passing over high trestles, where one could look down and see the track in at least two places below, many figures were cut by the track in winding its way down. In one place the track led into the side of the mountains. On coming out on the other side it turned around and tunneled back into the same mountain and came out many feet below the first tunnel. We crossed over the famous Dollarhide trestle and enjoyed the scenery immensely all the way down to Ashland. Ashland is a very pretty little town, and in fact all of Oregon that we have seen so far has impressed us very much.
    We walked through the town and saw men at work laying bitumen on Fourth Street, which reminded us of the work that was going on in Santa Rosa when we left. This is a great fruit belt through here. One place we saw apples that we couldn't get both hands around.
    The second budget is from Grants Pass, Ore., Aug. 29, and is as follows:
    August 27.--Victor had to have four new spokes put in his back wheel this morning. We left Ashland about noon and started on our first Oregon roads. They were pretty dusty on account of being run over about six times a day by a traction engine hauling seven wagons of gravel. The road was this way for about three miles and from there on we found fine riding to Medford. A strong north wind was blowing all day. We rode to Medford in about two hours and were surprised to find such a trim little town. Medford is situated in the Rogue River Valley and is surrounded by a rich farming country. (By the way, farmers here are getting $2.50 per box for their pears. They ship them to New York and Chicago.) One farmer called us in and gave us all we could eat. We left Medford about 2:30 p. m. and started on our way to Grants Pass. Before we had gone two miles Victor had a blowout. The casing on his back wheel, being weak in one place, came out of the rim and exploded the inner tube. A place about four inches long was torn in the tube. This was fixed easily and we rode on for about a mile, thinking we had got off easy, when all at once the casing came out again and another blowout occurred. It was now time to do something. We walked back to the nearest ranch, unpacked the wheel, and Victor took the casing back to Medford, where he shipped it back to Santa Rosa. It is a guaranteed tire and should be replaced. This was our first real trouble, having come this far with only one small puncture. We had brought an extra casing and tube with us and these were quickly put on. The casing was old so it had to be taped in several places, but it is still holding air. We hope it will stay with us until we get to Roseburg to where the new outer casing is to be shipped. It is now "Roseburg or bust."
    Aug. 28.--We started on the road to Grants Pass and found good roads. The roads were filled with teams. Ringling Bros. Circus was going to show in Medford today and all the farmers and their families were going. We passed through Central Point and had good wheeling to Gold Hill. Here we crossed the Rogue River (a sporting goods store in Medford offers an $80 fishing outfit to the one catching the largest steelhead in this stream this season). We are out of it when it comes to fishing and hunting in Oregon. We would have to have a fishing license and pay $10 for a hunter's license. Between Gold Hill and Woodville we passed a large forest fire. In one place the fire had burned the base of a huge sugar pine and it had fallen directly across the road. We had to climb around through the brush to get on the road again. About a quarter of a mile on, while everything was going along smoothly on practically level road, Ray's wheel let down under him. He dismounted and found the frame had broken in two places, as shown by the rough sketch. This was enough to make anyone disheartened, and Ray has a feeling for the maker of the wheel. A council was held on the roadside and it was decided that the only thing to do was to strap the frame together and walk to Grant's Pass, six miles away. We took the railroad because it was shorter and made fairly good time. We passed some deserted placer mines where the old sluice boxes and flumes were still standing. These places were very interesting and we spent some time looking around. We stopped in at one ranch to get a drink and were just in time to see the rancher dressing a young spike buck. He had killed it within half a mile of the house only an hour or so before.
    We followed the Rogue River on to Grants Pass, arriving here about 5:30. A cyclery was found where a new frame was sought, but it was found best to have the old frame repaired. This is to be done on Monday, August 30, and we intend to move on as soon as this is done.
    Aug. 29.--We have spent the day in the town park resting and writing.
    P.S.--Our Motto is "Beat it while your tires are good."
Press Democrat, Santa Rosa, California, September 1, 1909, page 3

    Hereafter the ordinance prohibiting the riding of bicycles on the sidewalks anywhere within the city limits will be rigidly enforced. Lately the law has been allowed to be non-observed in certain districts, but the many narrow escapes from accidents and the recklessness of the riders has caused a resolve on the part of the city authorities to enforce the law.
    There are only two exceptions to this ordinance, i.e., mail carriers and persons who are crippled.
    Mayor Canon said: "We have not fined any of the violators of the ordinance yet, but have simply warned them. Hereafter, however, the penalty will be inflicted."
Medford Mail Tribune, May 4, 1910, page 3


    The town council passed an ordinance Monday night forbidding the riding of bicycles on Pine, Fourth and Second streets.
"Central Point Items," Medford Mail Tribune, August 24, 1910, page 2

    The first annual Rogue River Amateur Bicycle Race meet was held very successfully yesterday on the Pacific Highway, finishing at the Natatorium.
    The following events took place, with winners and prizes as given:
    Mile race for boys under 13 years, first prize by Clarence Williams, gold watch furnished by Eclipse Manufacturing Co. Second prize, bike horn furnished by C. E. Gates Auto Co.
    Mile race for boys under 15 years, first prize by Jesse Blackburn, gold watch and chain furnished by New Departure Co. Second prize, bike pump furnished by W. R. Gaylord.
    Free-for-all mile race, first prize by Richard Singler, set of gold pins and cuff buttons, furnished by Harley-Davidson Motor Co. Second prize by Harold Campbell, pair pliers furnished by W. R. Gaylord.
    Mile handicap race, first prize by Richard Singler, a gold-filled honor medal furnished by United Cycle Trade Directorate of New York City. Second prize by Adelbert Elliott, racing saddle furnished by Persons Mfg. Co.
    Slow race, first prize by Jesse Blackburn, solar gas lamp furnished by C. M. Hall Lamp Co. Second prize by Harold Campbell, trip cyclomotor furnished by Veeder Mfg. Co.
    The races were started by Mr. F. E. Martin. Time was kept by Mr. Homer Calkins. The prizes were presented by W. R. Gaylord.
Medford Mail Tribune, May 31, 1919, page 3

    Regulation of bicycle traffic was brought a step nearer last night when the 20-30 Club requested the city council to promulgate a supervisory ordinance as a means of curtailing accidents.
    Mayor C. C. Furnas informed the club representatives that the council had been working on a regulative ordinance for some time, and he referred the data submitted by the service organization to the public safety committee and the city attorney.
    The committee was asked by the mayor to bring in a report at the next council meeting. Meantime the 20-30 Club was invited to sit with the committee in drafting the necessary control ordinance.
    The 20-30 Club was represented by Harry Pinneo, district governor, Al Dalara, vice-president, and Howard Hamilton, who compose a committee appointed by the club some time ago to investigate the bicycle problem.
    Mr. Pinneo, spokesman for the group, said that a study of records for the past 18 months showed bicycle accidents to be increasing. He stated that the club had made a thorough study of the situation, procuring copies of ordinances in cities having bicycle regulation, checking results of the ordinances, and obtaining samples of license plates, registration cards, etc. Copies and samples of all these things were submitted to the council for study, together with a model ordinance prepared by the 20-30 Club.
    W. P. Stewart, chairman of the public safety committee, invited club members to confer with him regarding preparation of an ordinance, saying that simplicity was a prime requisite in any regulation of bicycle traffic.
    Mr. Pinneo said the 20-30 Club was prepared to stand the expense of enforcing any regulative ordinance for the first year of its existence. If an ordinance is adopted, he stated, the club would conduct an educational campaign to acquaint bicycle riders with the aims and purposes of the supervision. He emphasized that the education of youthful bicycle riders would be of permanent value in training them as potential drivers of motorcars.
    On motion of M. N. Hogan, the council adopted a vote of thanks and appreciation for the club's cooperation and offer of assistance.
Excerpt, Medford Mail Tribune, October 20, 1937, page 1


    The party will be held in conjunction with the 15th anniversary of the organization of 20-30 clubs throughout the United States. H. D. Kem, advertising manager of the California Oregon Power Company, presented a program of educational films on bicycle traffic at Tuesday's meeting. The club is particularly interested in bicycle control, having sponsored a bicycle traffic ordinance for Medford.
"Club Party," Medford Mail Tribune, January 7, 1938, page 11