AN AWFUL RIDE.

Patea Mail, Volume VIII, Issue 1052, 27 June 1883, Page 4

AN AWFUL RIDE.

LITERATURE.

Our mine, the Spondulix, was the highest on the range. It was 2,670 ft above Silver Brick Station, and nine miles distant: from the village. From the works up to. the mines there was a broad, hard, smooth road, used for carting ore down , from the mines and hauling supplies up. The average grade down the mountain was 300 ft to the mile ; in some places it was considerably steeper, and at intervals almost level. The road was made partly on the bare rock and wound up a narrow gluch; presently it climbed ontside the chasm, and here at several places the road-bed had been blasted out .of the solid rock, or cut into the perpendicular side of the mountain ; but everywhere the road was almost as smooth and hard as a floor. Knowing that a loose stone might cost the lives of both teamster and team, where sometimes the brakes would not entirely check the descent of an ore waggon, until one of the nearly level places had been reached, the teamsters were careful to keep the surface of the road clean and smooth. By constant practice I managed at last to ride my 52in University roadster np the whole slope to the Spondnlix, of course resting at levels ; but my chief doiight was the coasting down again. It required skill, a good deal of nerve, and a firm grasp of the brake. One evening an accident occurred to one of those engaged at the mine. I instantly got ont my bicycle, explaining that I could go swifter than a horse down the slope. In a few minutes I had on my riding-suit and was off. The night was clear and crisp. The full moon, except in a few shone directly into the up the road. Leaning well back, with my legs over the handles, and a firm finger on the brake, T allowed the wheel to glide down the first long slope at a speed which I had never dared to venture before.' Finding the motion safe, I allowed the machine to run faster, and still faster. Over- the first level I. shot like an arrow. Down the next slope I seemed to slide upon the rushing wind. Then I turned a curve and ran into the shadow of the momiT tain upon the next level. Knowing every inch of the road, however, I did not slacken speed, except very slightly. As I' flew over the top of the next slope, a steep plunge of nearly half-a-mile, another curve completely shut out the moon, making the road almost as dark as a pocket. Here I put down the brake hard, and checked my speed materially. Still, I knew the road so well that L had no fear. But just as I was upon the steepest ' plunge of the slope—— Clink I Something flew from the machine like a bullet. Instantly the wheel darted forward like the rush of a frightened bird, while the brake lever came home to the steering-bar under my finger. The brake had broken short off in the elbow. There was nothing to check the; machine, which was running awa.y,with me, with over five miles of mountain grade before me, and the chance , of meeting a team any moment in the dark. I might have ; leaped backward off the machine at the instant of the break, but five seconds afterwards it was too late. To attempt a dismount would be. death.

- Within : thirty -seconds the: machine had acquired a' velocity never-before 1 expe|ienced by mortal rider. ’ The 1 sensation was like that of falling through the air. The rush of the atmosphere past me was like a fearful gale. The wheel no longer felt the inequalities of "the road. It seemed to glide smoothly over a perfect plane. I felt no sense of shocks from pebbles, or hollows, or protubeaances. ; in 'fact, I believe that there were many-places,' especially when ! shot oyer the brow of a steeper incline, where the wholemachine took a flying bop, or rather a •long,: skimming glide through the air,! without touching; the surface of the road., It was lucky that I had practised so much coasting down this very road , and I knew every inch of it so thoroughly. Going at that amazing speed, leaning! far back in tlmsaddle, the steering was something novel. and peculiar. Thespeed’gave the wheel such an obstinate: disposition r to ;: keep on a'straight line,) that I could not have turned a sharp; curve if I had needj A very little too ; much of the steering bar would have wrenched it instantly from myi hands and- smashed the wheel to fragments, feuf my practice had taught me the necessity of making my curves long and easy when coasting at great speed ; and by instinct my graspnpon the steering-bar was that of desperation, both my arms being kept as firm, yet flexible, as spring steel. When the accident happened' I was: jnst entering a dark curve in the shadow of the mountain. The wall, on my right appeared a dark, almost invisible brown, the chasm on my left was of any inky blackness. As I rounded the hollow of the curve I could see the moonlight shining far: ahead on the ■point of the elbow which I must turn where the road was channelled into the wall. As I approached it I bad the sense and nerve. toi run on the outer side of the road, close to the edge of toe canon, thus giving myself as broad a turn .as possible. I found by the track of the wheel afterwards that at the sharpest tnrn I had actually ridden within three inches of the extreme edge for several rods, where, if ! had been going, at a less fearful speed, the wheel would certainly have slipped over the edge, and carried me down a fall of I,oooft. • Safely past the worst point, the remaining curves were easy. Thus far there had been no time to think. My actions were -more instinctive than reasoning. My mind was a wild, confused whirl of sensations and fears. But now, as I shot down the last

terrible mental shock.. It was caused by hearing the tinkle of a bell far below, and seeing the spark of a lantern such as the mine teamsters carry, in front of their waggons. There was a team, perhaps a train of teams, coming up the road. In a few seconds I should be upon them. The shock made me think, and that clearly. If the teamster was walking beside his team, he would be on the inside, next to the mountain wall, and the team would be in the middle of the road. If he was riding, the team would be kept near the mountain wall aud at a safe distance from the outer edge of the track. Either way, my best chance was to pass on the ontside. As I approached, therefore, I ran close to outside edge of the track, track, and flew by in safely, hearing the teamster shout as I did ; so. Here it was lucky that I was 'going at such great speed, for the' teamster saw the red light of my lantern when I was nearly a mile distant, and recognising it, he started his team toward the outer edge of the road, so as to give me the safest passage on the inside; but I was upon and past him before the team could be driven over, otherwise I should have surely ran into them. And now the wheel ran along the level at the bottom of the mountain; still my frightful velocity did not perceptibly diminish. I ran out past the works, aud into, and along the village street. Luckily the street was covered thinly with sand —not enough to make it bad riding, but sufficient to gradually stop a coasting wheel. My speed slackened perceptibly. Still I ran nearly throtigh the village, and then managed to turn a broad corner and run up the slope of a side street, which finally checked my speed, so that I ventured to drop my feet cautiously and take the pedals, after touching them as they came up for a number of revolutions, to help to check the machine. And so I finally stopped and leaped to: the ground exactly in? front of Dr Cameron’s house.

Gn‘ mounting at the mine-house I hiid looked at my watch, after a habit I had ; and now, from the same habit, I looked at it again. I was not astonished to find that I had made the nine miles from the mine to the doctor’s in a.few seconds less than thirteen minutes. Allowing six and a-quarter for the first two miles before the brake gave way, and I must have made the last seven miles in less than six and three-quarter minutes. I firmly believe that I covered seven miles in less than six <jnd a-half minutes, incredible as such speed seems. —Tit Bits.