Who had a paper route and what did you ride?
 

Where was your route, what did you ride, how many papers, etc? I consider this C&V worthy as most likely all the bikes you had are C&V now!

I had a route from 5th through 8th grade(1955-1958). Although I can't remember what each bike was, I went through quite a few Schwinn 26" bikes for delivery(with, of course, a beefy delivery rack and all coaster brakes). A lot of kids(myself included) in my neighborhood were into bikes, painting(rattlecan metallic blue was an early favorite) and modifing them in one way or another. One popular mod for awhile was to put 20" front wheel, fork, and cranks on the 26" bikes(obviously we're talking wheel size 26") The largest my route(78-E, Santa Barbara News Press) ever got was 160+-. Besides delivering(afternoon delivery, except early AM Sunday), the paper boys went around to each house at the end of the month and collected the subscription fees. Fortunately my route was around my neighborhood, "collected" at night after deliveries. I'm pretty sure I was making about $.01 per paper per day, so I was making around $45 a month, which was a lot in those days for a kid. I know I spent more of that money on bikes/bike stuff than anything else. I saved most of the money though, my parents expected it, guess that's why I'm still pretty tight with it today!:)

Bonus points if you can come up with a pic of you and delivery bike. Yeah I know, no pics, didn't happen, but back then my family wasn't exactly "flush" enough to spend $ on pics of their kid(cost of film and developing, you remember, when you needed to pay for developing, rather quaint right) with his paper route bike, so you'll have to take my word for it.

I got a little long winded here, but the memories just kept flowing. Boy, those truly were simpler times.

Brian

52 Huffy, 28 customers. Indianapolis Star News...No Sundays.


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I had a Blue Huffy beach cruiser. My Grandfather took me to buy it. I paid for it with my Paper route money. I don't remember what model it was, but it had brake levers. I would say I had the route 1981-1983.

I had a paper route from 64 to 66. I walked.:(

I was 11 years old and walking to the local pool. There was an old gas station on one corner about half-way there, where they fixed lawn mowers, etc. They also sold Mr. Freeze pops, so stopping in was an option if you had ten cents.

Parked there was an orange and white Sunbeam Tiger convertible. I knew exactly what it was, having made a model of it. In it was a young man with a shirt and tie, accompanied by a gorgeous blonde. No one I knew wore a shirt and tie. I said "hey mister, nice Sunbeam." He was surprised I knew what it was, and we chatted. He asked me where I lived, and in those days, you answered questions. I pointed to the house way up the street, and went on to the pool. He simply drove to my house and told my parents he wanted me to be a paperboy. The Milwaukee Sentinel had 28 dedicated subscribers every day, and about 55 for the Milwaukee Journal on Sundays. The money paid $15/week, because the route was 8 miles long and they couldn't get anyone to take it, probably due to the winter. In those days, you put the paper in the door, or the mailbox, or even in the hallway.

I ran it on a Stingray clone with a bag during the week, and pulled a wagon on Sundays, until I could save for a bike. The local Rexall store had a contest at Christmas that year, for a Columbia bike. I didn't win, but the kid that had won one in the past sold me his for $15, and I put baskets on it from the hardware store and used it every day, even into high school. I switched to the Wisconsin State Journal before my junior year, hoping to make more money. I did, with 45 folks every day, 60 on Sunday, but they didn't tip as well. I finally stopped during my senior year, near the end. I, too, had to collect the money, and there was a young wife with 3 small kids on my route, dying of cancer back when there wasn't a thing you could do about it. She never had the money, and I never asked for it. My mom and dad paid it.

Paperboys ruled the mornings. We knew who cheated on who. We knew who the drunks were, and where the cop hung out. We also got hot donuts and sweet rolls from the German baker at 5 am for 6 cents, 7 when the price of sugar went up. Hot chocolate at the only truck stop was 50 cents, and so hot it scalded your tongue, but you learned to gulp it down and get on with it.

Summers were the best, because that far north, the sun came up before 5 and went down near 11. It was daylight the whole ride, and late-night partiers were sleeping in their cars on main street.

We had a family farm, and took our turns out there. I managed to avoid early milking with the route. However, once I got my license, I had to milk, then drive to town, do the route, then take my siblings to school. I missed from Jan 3, 1975 to April or so, with two broken legs, one in 6 places. When it got warmer, I could ride with a walking cast on the more injured one, encased in a cut-off snow boot. Otherwise, I only missed one week in 7 years, when we went on the only vacation we ever had. I think I wore out 2 or 3 sets of rubber pedals. Every bit of my maintenance was done with 3-in-1 oil, a channel locks, a pair of screwdrivers, and a crescent wrench.

When it was below zero, I could wake up my dad, and he'd drive me. When it snowed, it had to be more than 6 inches, because my bike could handle that. Besides, I had to shovel when I got done, may as well get up. I learned to appreciate bikes in that way. The photo is during my junior year in high school. Note the cool gloves and cycling shoes.

1970 to 1977. SW Wisconsin.

I guarantee you if I'd not been a paperboy, I'd not be into bikes at all. Not a whit. Later on, I learned that my parents wanted me to have the route because I was born 6 weeks early, weighing 4lbs, and they thought it would be good for their skinny little son to get a workout every day. I weighed 73 lbs my freshman year, and 128 when I graduated. When I finally saved enough for a Sears Free Spirit 10-speed, no one could touch me. The roads on the Dairyland Dare this year will kick my butt, but I stomped them back then.

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Jeez, you haven`t changed a bit. Managing to pick up chicks even at that age.

You got that right. 49 years later

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Ran papers from 1971-1974 when they canned the bicycle carriers in favor of car carriers. My normal route was around 70 papers and I used a Schwinn Heavy Duty. Broke a couple of frames and had them replaced under warranty. Sold the bike, but don't recall to whom. Going to have to dig for the pictures.

Aaron :)

Very cool pics guys, thanks for posting! Man, I really had it easy, afternoon/after school delivery and no snow(ever)!

Brian

I froze in the winter time.

I had one customer, on collection day that would answer Her door with no shirt on.

Yeah, but you could surf. All I could do was listen to my Beach Boys 8-track.

I had one lady who had a bathroom door that faced the back door of the house where I delivered. Yep, one morning, I opened the door to find her on the throne, staring across maybe 8' of carpet and linoleum at my stunned face.
I shut the door and ran to my bike. That week, she gave me a $5 tip.

One customer used to give me a choice between the change in his hand and the exact amount. I always took the change, whether it was low or high, didn't matter. He was a naturalist and made bowls out of the knots in walnut trees. One time, I told him it was on me, and he gave me a bowl. They sell for between $600-$2000 now.

I had a customer who was blind, too. I never figured that one out.

I had a green Murray with chrome fenders and a steel spring rack on the front. You could wrap the strap of the canvas bag around the bars and sit it on the rack. It made steering a little sluggish. Weds. were the worst because the papers were fat with adds, almost as big as a Sunday paper. The paper cost 45 cents a week and most customers gave you 50 cents, so you made a nickel a week per customer plus the pittance the paper paid. This was in the early 60's. I still have the bike out in the barn and still ride it occasionally to the mailbox. It still works fine and is equipped with STP stickers to boot.

My hutch trickstar

I sure did. For two years until I intentionally got fired :)

I rode the bike in the photo below. At first, I tried to use a two-compartment canvas bag on the ape-hangers, but that didn't work so well. My first payday, I bought a rack with metal baskets either side of the rear wheel and hauled my pulp that way. I would inadvertently pop wheelies from the weight until I'd completed about 1/4 of the route :)

1970 Schwinn Apple Krate:

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DD

I was a carrier for The Florida Times-Union (Jacksonville) when I was twelve and thirteen, and the bike was a 1954 Schwinn World. I swapped out the tourist bars for Wald wide cruiser bars to hang the bag on. It was a morning paper, and I had 100 (plus or minus) customers on two streets. I delivered up one street and back on the other, winding up a block from where I started. A bunch of us would meet the truck at 5:00 in the morning to fold papers together, and then head out on our routes.

The worst part of being a paper boy back then ('54 and '55) was collecting. Once a month, I'd have to go door-to-door collecting money and writing receipts. A small minority of customers just wouldn't answer the doorbell, and I'd have to go back several times to get paid.

Maybe he had a bird ;)

DD

I had a paper route from the age of 11 or 12 until I was about 16. I started out doing the route on my AMF banana seat bike and also my Mossberg MX bike (slightly pre-BMX I think, early '70's bike), but by the time I was thirteen or fourteen I was doing it on a small Suzuki motorcycle, then later a Yamaha 175, which I bought with my paper route money (it was used when I bought it). Good times. Cold mornings sometimes, but good times for sure. My route had 50-60 customers.

I had the Chicago Tribune and Sun Times in the a.m. and the American and Daily News in the p.m. I got a real education in humanity at an early age. People that would hide to avoid paying, and others that tipped generously. Kids today have it rough compared to us, when you could earn a dollar at such a young age. I had close to 100 papers both shifts.

I collected once a week..Have 2 customers that still owe me...

Wait. You BROKE 2 Schwinn frames???. I'm pretty sure Schwinn frames from that era would stand up to a truck rolling over them. How on earth did you break them delivering papers?

You lucky dawg.:p

She drafted behind me for her last 10 miles of her 100 mile ride.
Her husband took the pic.

some huffy MTB from the price club (costco)

I broke a Schwinn frame, riding fast to middle school, while pacing a guy who rode his Raleigh International to school along almost the same route, he was always miffed he could not drop me. Little did he know after I got home I was getting on my own road bike for a 40 mile training ride. Frame popped at the seat stay arch at the seat lug. Warranty replacement done, the shop was hoping to make some money on the swap of parts, no problem, "I will bring it to you bare".

I avoided a paper route game entirely, I got to see first hand the neighbor working hard for almost nothing. The local evening paper also had the paperboy collect the monthly bill from the customers. That was as much or more work than delivering the papers. If a customer did not pay, or moved and no one told you, the paperboy got shafted, having paid for the papers no matter. He was lucky to clear $12 per month, took 18 to 25 hours a month to do with folding the papers too, I did the math. Eventually the newspaper got outed for the practices, and adult car delivery came in, where the subscriber paid the newspaper directly.

I had a morning delivery route that encompassed four city blocks, mostly residential with a couple of four-story apartment buildings, delivered on a root beer coaster brake Schwinn and was strictly a paperboy with canvas bags. My best friend had the afternoon route and our bundle drop corner was about halfway between his route and mine so we'd double up on Wednesdays and Sundays because we both had pretty big routes and there was no way of getting 90 Wednesday papers into the bags and my Sundays usually ran about 115 or so. The apartment buildings were best because they were full of college coeds and girls from one of the nursing schools. I ran my route from my 9th year in 1954 until 1959. Always the collections were the absolute worst part of the job--my younger brother got beaten and robbed one collection night in November. I also caddied three seasons of the year from age 10 to 15 at the local club, hustling butt to get an 18 in in the morning and another in the early afternoon before heading home. My brothers and I were kids of working poor parents and every nickel we earned went immediately--less anything we could embezzle or lie about without fear of the old man's fist--into my mother's hand because she knew just how much you earned for 18 holes of golf and how much whoever you worked for was likely to tip down to the penny. As much as I resented it at the time, particularly when into my early teens when having some small change in your pocket meant everything, the basic values that have sustained me throughout life were taught and learned in those years. I shared that Schwinn with two stair-step younger brothers--pathetic little boomers that they are--so there were a lot of times I walked my route which could be almost as quick as riding, depending on the weather.