Shank's mare

Take Shank's mare is a familiar term to anyone that is my age. That's the term kids would often hear, when they asked their parents for a ride. In my case I did not have a parent with a car. So when I asked someone for a ride, the usual response was "take a hike". Which of course had a totally different meaning than a parent saying walk, The exercise will do you good.
So along with Victor Bernson,I became a veteran hitch hiker. Thumbing was very prevalent back in the fifty's. In this day and age of political correctness and fear. Thumbing a ride is an exercise in futility. Not only are your chances of getting a ride slim and none. But if you are unlucky enough to get a lift, your life and health insurance premiums better be up to date.
Bicycle's of course were all kids main form of transportation.
Which brings me to a story about Victor. He was the same age as I, and we were more like associates than close friends. Living in the same place, and sharing the same experiences. We were sort of paired up by fate. He was just the opposite of me. Dark,handsome and out going.
Once when we were about twelve, he limped around for a couple of weeks.He claimed that he had hurt his tailbone while playing football. I of course was sure, that he had tripped over his ego. But anyway back to the story , which proves people are not always what they appear to be. The YMCA was running a candy sale as a fund raiser. The prize to the member who sold the most, was an English bicycle. Victor bragged to anybody who would listen, that he was going to be the proud owner of a new bike. As time went by it became clear that Victor was probably going to finish in second or third place. So he approached me with a proposition. He figured if that if I got into the competition, I could sell candy to all the people that he had already hit up, He would then submit my sales as his. His theory being, people would not buy from the same kid twice. But would buy again from another kid. The carrot for this deal was that he would give the bike to me. This of course would be after everybody saw his picture in the newspaper. And after he puffed his chest out and told all of doubters,"see I told you so"
Well, I did not want to do it, for a number of reasons. The main reason was of course that at that age, I was firmly in the wallflower mode. Especially with adults, and any girl of my age who might happen to answer my tentative knock on their door. That plus my brother Harry, who at that time I hardly knew. Had just giving me a practically new Schwinn bicycle.
Victor persisted, and I finally gave in. Lo and behold the theory was correct. All of Victor's customers and many new one's, went out of their way to help out the skinny little blond haired runt. Thus Victor was the proud owner of a brand new English bicycle. And to my surprise(and everyone else) he insisted on holding up his end of the bargain and give the bicycle to me. And to Victors surprise I took it.
Anyway with the number of kids at eight Virginia avenue, things that we had were more or less interchangeable And at that time we were both on the cusp of teenage. In the fifty's no self respecting teenager would be seen dead on a bicycle. I don't recall every seeing a bicycle at Memorial junior high or at Beverly high school. I don't recall seeing any bicycle racks there either.
So in our early teens we became masters of thumbing and hitching rides.Some days we had no trouble getting rides. Other days we would end up walking all the way to our destination. So we were forced into learning some great short cuts. I'll just list a few of our favorites. Up County way extension into the woods, follow the bridal path to the United Shoe golf course, across golf course to McKay street and north Beverly, This was short cut to Memorial junior high, Shoe Pond and Beverly airport, where in 55 and 56 they held SCCA automobile races on the fourth of July.
Another favorite was up Beverly Hills ave to Sunset drive into the woods, over Folly Hill to the cattle underpass of rte 128 to Cherry Hill farm. At that time it was a model dairy farm owned by the Hood milk company. This was also our gateway to the Topsfield fair grounds. Into the woods off of rte 97, over the chain link fence and into the fair. Back in the fifties it was always held on Labor day week, and the greyhounds were the big draw. For us kids it was rather sweet and sour, as it was also the first week of the school year.