All Up Mount Wilson – All Down in the Family

For a young man, leading an independent life and enjoying a glorious southern California summer, the Voice of Experience speaks softly. Pain and Abasement choose to use less-subtle expressions.

My bicycle, a Raleigh Supercourse, had been a happy companion for months. I found that it had such superb traction that I could corner a narrow, smooth, concrete sidewalk so well that I could drag a foot pedal if I weren’t careful. Free rides downhill, purchased with large denominations of worthless Jim-sweat, blasted me with eye-wincing winds and the zinging clicks of the coaster gear. It was the perfect time for a new and bigger adventure.

The Caltech Christian Fellowship provided a few graduate-student friends, fellows whom a mere undergrad might otherwise only know by way of envy. Ray (was that his name? the years know – I no longer do) was a smaller, but well-conditioned guy. He suggested that we go on one of the more popular bike excursions – a trip to the top of Mount Wilson.