G.A.Wyman 1903 -- Rif Addams 2003 |
Today, May 16, 2016 is the 113th anniversary of the start of Wyman's historic journey across America on a motorized vehicle. To mark this occasion we are pleased to share with you Rif's account of his quest to ride in the tracks of George A. Wyman. (Tim Masterson, President, GAWMP)
The George A. Wyman Centennial Recreation
Across America on a Motor Bicycle - 2003
By Rif Addams, (c)2003
"Little more than three miles constituted the first day's travel of my
journey across the American continent. It is just three miles from the corner
of Market and Kearney streets, San Francisco, to the boat that steams to
Vallejo, California, and, leaving the corner formed by those streets at 2:30 o'
clock on the bright afternoon of May 16, in less than two hours later I had
passed through the golden gate and was in Vallejo..." George A. Wyman, Over the Sierras and Through the Snow Sheds, "The Motorcycle Magazine", June 1903
Prologue: Thus began one of the greatest chapters in American
Motorcycling and transportation history.
My Name is Rif Addams, and in 2003, on the centennial of George A.
Wyman's historic crossing, with the help of friends and family I re-created the
epic journey of the first person to cross America on a motorized vehicle,
following as close as safely possible, George's original route and time
schedule.
It was during October of 2001 when I received a photocopy
of the complete story of George A.
Wyman's incredible odyssey, sent from a fellow two-wheel enthusiast. Being a Motor-assist Bicycle enthusiast, I was inspired by Wyman's determination and tenacity, so as such, desired to recreate his journey, and experience his adventure. And ultimately, the goal of the adventure was to draw attention to the Wyman story.
Wyman's incredible odyssey, sent from a fellow two-wheel enthusiast. Being a Motor-assist Bicycle enthusiast, I was inspired by Wyman's determination and tenacity, so as such, desired to recreate his journey, and experience his adventure. And ultimately, the goal of the adventure was to draw attention to the Wyman story.
The Wyman centennial team came together in quick fashion
from different corners of the country, through various channels and networks.
Through the generosity of the bicycle and Motor-assist Bicycle community, it
all began to come together- the supplies, the parts, the vintage costume, etc.
Everything needed was being donated. Through the generosity of my parents,
funding for the actual trip was in place.
It was frantic work preparing, researching, mapping out the route,
coordinating the players and places to stay, and building the bike.
Leg 1: San
Francisco to Reno- 5/16/2003, 2:30
PM
As with George, little more than just a few miles
constituted my days first ride. I kicked off the curb at the corner of Market
and Kearney, fired the engine and promptly almost hit the back of a transit
bus! I maneuvered my way to the ferry terminal without becoming immortalized as
a hood ornament, and made my way onto the ferry and traveled through the
golden gate to Vallejo, Ca. The engine worked magnificently, purring along the
fertile valleys and farmlands upwards towards the Sierra Nevada Mountains. In
Colfax where we camped the night of May 18, and where I made repairs to the
coaster brake, we were thrilled to discover the old train depot George's
original photos still standing! We took lunch, just as George had at Emigreant's
Gap, and from the summit, beyond to Truckee, had a time of it pedaling a
choking motor to that highest elevation, and downwards again, we arrived in
Reno May, 20 with a major mechanical issue to the support truck, and a couple
of issues with the bike.
Leg 2: Reno to
Ogden
Repairs were made while in Reno, and after we made tour
of, and spoke with the people at Harrah's Automotive museum about George A.
Wyman. To our surprise on display was the first automobile to circumnavigate
the globe, originally owned and operated by E.R. Thomas of the Thomas Auto-Bi
motor bicycle fame! How interesting and surprising to come across this
connection in Reno! On through the desert to Ogden, UT there isn't much
interesting- sand sagebrush, and blue skies. We arrived ahead of schedule, so
would have to remain an extra day to get back to the timeline. To our good
fortune, as I needed to make repairs to the bike's engine, and there was a
Whizzer dealer in Ogden.
Leg 3: Ogden to
Omaha
We left Ogden May 28, one day ahead of schedule, to begin
the climb over the Rocky Mountains. UP, UP, UP and down again into Evanston,
with some more serious engine troubles with both the bike and the support
truck. Outside Evanston on May 31, I was to see the face of death as a reality
for the first time on this adventure. I had taken a wrong turn and became lost
in the desert with no supplies, no cell phone, and nearly out of gasoline. What
an adventure! Nebraska was magnificent with excellent roads to ride upon,
beautiful rolling farmlands stretching to the horizon, and rains. Upon reaching
Ogalalla June 3, I discovered the bike frame had a crack in the down tube. A
local welding shop did repairs. June, 8 in Kearney, NE we got a hotel room, as
the frame had cracked again, ahead of the formerly welded crack. Across the
street, out of pure luck and circumstance, was a machine shop, so I walked over
and talked with them a bit. I walked away with not only the milled and drilled
angle iron I needed, but a job offer to boot! Then dad and I purchased u-bolts
to bolt the angle as a brace, to the down tube. The brace worked and we were
back on the road to Omaha.
Leg 4: Omaha to
Chicago
We crossed the Missouri River to pitch camp just over the
river where I did more repairs including changing tires. The four-ply bicycle
tires we ordered were holding up magnificently, but still, by this many miles,
the rear had become nearly bald. The coaster brake, as with George 100 years
earlier, became a coaster broke in Ogden, IA. The kind folks of a local
motorcycle repair shop opened up the shop to us with use of tools and supplies
all day for me to get the work done. I inquired as to the original blacksmith
shop, where George had repaired his brake, as it turns out the building was
still standing at that time in 2003! We took photos but upon our return were
dismayed to see that the camera had a malfunction, so as to not capture the
historical place.
The little engine gave out 150 miles from Chicago. There
was a terrible amount of metal shavings in the oil, and upon tear down
discovery of badly worn piston rings and scored cylinder walls. Dad drove 300
miles that day round trip, to the nearest Whizzer dealer for parts. I rebuilt
the engine as best I could. It was running well enough so that next day we
rolled out. We reached the whizzer dealer in Illinois, just outside Chicago,
the Whizzer company insisted upon replacing motor with new, and the rear wheel
needed new spokes. Just as with George a century ago, trouble abounds around
Chicago.
Leg 5: Chicago to
New York City
We passed through Chicago June 23, the same day George
left the Windy City, and as with George, I was glad of it. I did not care one
bit for this metropolis. As for the rest of my journey it seemed fraught with
trouble and breakdowns. June 28, just outside Conneaut, OH, my rear wheel
collapsed due to a cereal bowl sized pothole. I spent most of the day swapping
parts from a parts bike scrounged from an old farmer. It was afternoon when I
finished repairs and pushed on towards New York, passing through Erie, PA where
the bike began to act "squirrely". Finding no source for the problem,
I pushed on, racing against the setting sun. Just before the New York State
line, I pulled in to a truck stop for a quick rest, whereupon the frame of the
bike broke in two at the head tube, I pulled to a stop as the bike fell out
from under me. With little else to do, we set up camp. The next morning, we
loaded up the two halves in the truck, and headed towards New York City to meet
our hosts. Which we did, and were part of an Independence Day celebration at
Sagamore Hill Long Island, NY. The long journey over, our centennial
celebration done, the time had come to return to home.
Epilogue:
At the end of our journey, when time came to return to
the west coast, we loaded up the broken bike in the support truck, and drove
straight back across. Dad and I lost deep in our thoughts, reflecting back as
we passed back through all the places we had previously travelled. Remembrances
coming to surface, laughing about it now that we were no longer in the thick of
it. The reactions of everyone we met was one of genuine good will. And they all
found a fascination in George A. Wyman- though most none had ever heard of him,
or his story. They know now though, as we did our level best to spread the word.
and following my return, I continued my work. I contacted museums, historical
societies, bike clubs and organizations, and kept on my research. Over time
though, things began to fade, as life events took a front seat, which is quite
often the case. Yet not a day went by I didn't think of George A. Wyman, of my
own saga, at some point throughout the day.
Because of George A. Wyman, a great American Hero and
motor bike pioneer, I returned home a completely different man than the one who
kicked off that curb in San Francisco, headed for New York City, on May 16,
2003. I am forever grateful to him for
the favor.
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