Cycles of Life

Thinking back to my childhood memories some of the things I remember are the cycles. The first was a tricycle. It wasn’t actually a tricycle, but had three wheels; four if you include the steering wheel. It was a bright red pedal tractor with a wide metal seat shaped like the older tractor seats, but it was solid, not having the cut-out design. The two black rubber rear wheels were V-shaped tread like tractor tires and a single grooved front tire that could be guided with a twist of the steering wheel. Two pedals dangled below the “motor” of the tractor. It had no brakes and was single child powered.

When I outgrew the pedal car, I got a bright red bicycle with solid rubber tires. It was about 24 inches high and I enjoyed riding it in the yard. It was in nearly pristine shape until I outgrew it and my brother Ken inherited it. He was a daredevil and soon wore out those solid rubber tires, leaving ony shreds and wires. I’ve written about that before and won’t belabor the point.

Other cycles I enjoyed were Fudgecicles, Popcicles, Creamcicles, and Dreamcicles. (I know, they aren’t actually cycles, but give me a bit of poetic license.)  I remember biting into these delicacies on hot summer days. The deep rich fudge flavor melted more slowly than ice cream, but it was still necessary to eat it quickly before it fell off the stick. Popcicles came in a variety of flavors, two to a package so it was easy to share. Root beer and banana were my favorite flavors. Creamsickles had that wonderfully creamy orange taste, delicious to the very last lick of the stick. Dreamsickles had a sweet berry flavor that could make any kid smile. There was a fancy brand called Captain Crunch-cicles. The outside of each of the different flavored bars was coated in cereal crumbles.

While we’re reminiscing about ice creams, I remember turning the crank of the ice cream churn at my Grandmother Miner’s place. Rich cream from the farm, sugar, and vanilla whirled around in an ice bath to make the remarkable confection, but returning to store bought delights. Ice cream sandwiches, vanilla ice cream rectangle sandwiched between two chocolate cookies or how about the drumsticks, dark sweet cones filled with vanilla ice cream capped with a chocolate coating.

Since my youth, flavors and brands of ice cream have blossomed. My mom, Sybil Miner Beck enjoyed White House or Maple Walnut. My dad Carl’s favorite flavor was Orange-Pineapple. At the Wig-Wam restaurant in Indian Head, Pennsylvania they had soft ice cream cones. I always ordered a twist. The cone was filled with chocolate and vanilla swirls.