Second in a series.

Idaho, like the rest of the nation, was caught up in a bicycle craze in the 1890s that transformed American life. The "velocipede mania" of the 1880s, when a very few enthusiasts took up the new machines, was followed by a mass movement that affected millions. Across the country, bicycle clubs held regular meetings, took weekend tours, sponsored races and social events, and in some cases even sported distinctive cycling uniforms.

On June 15, 1892, local bicycle enthusiasts met in the Boise YMCA and organized the Capital City Cycling Club. The Statesman referred to the members as "local wheelmen," a term used for bicycle riders everywhere at the time.

Four days later the club took what was probably the first organized bicycle ride to Silver City.

They rode to Nampa the evening before, spent the night, and got up at 4 a.m. to ride to Walters Ferry on the Snake River, where they had lunch. Then they pedaled onward into the Owyhee Mountains, over the rough and rutted dirt road to the old mining town of Silver City. It was a grueling test of stamina and dedication to their new sport.

Closer to home, the Statesman reported: "Ambitious bicyclists are trying their powers on the hill leading to the old Union Pacific depot. But only a few of the wheelmen have been able so far to reach the top without walking."

In July 1892, some of the members staged a bike race on 7th Street, (now Capitol Boulevard), an activity later banned by city ordinance. The winner covered 300 yards in 39 seconds. The next day, a Saturday, members rode as a group to Kelly's Hot Springs east of Table Rock and back, a distance of about 15 miles.

As more and more bikes crowded the city's streets, the Statesman began to report accidents.

When young Joseph Perrault Jr. collided with a horse, he was unconscious for nearly an hour. He was not seriously injured, and a year later had the honor of helping President Benjamin Harrison plant an oak tree on the Capitol grounds.

Ads for bicycles of many makes began to appear in the paper. In March 1896, a picture of a Crawford machine included the slogan "Crimson rims spin to win." In a special column titled "Bicycle Gossip," which became a regular feature in the Statesman, the paper listed local dealers and the kinds of machines they sold. These included, beside the Crawford, the Syracuse, the Tribune, the White, the Westminster, Road King, Ariel, Rambler, Crescent, Stearns and Victor. By 1897, there were hundreds of manufacturers across the country; in that year alone Americans bought more than 2 million bicycles.

How we wish we had pictures of the big bicycle parade that was the highlight of Boise's Fourth of July celebration in 1896. Fortunately, the Idaho Statesman has given us a splendid word picture of the event, in which 100 bicycles took part: "All the wheels bore Japanese lanterns and were otherwise decorated, some elaborately so. Among the wheels that attracted particular attention as the column passed down fire-lit Main Street was a tandem ridden by Miss Edna Shaw and Harry Shellworth. Above the wheel and extended its entire length was an arch of bunting, with a Japanese parasol protruding rudder-like at the back. The tandem also carried flags and lanterns and made a fine showing."

Young Shellworth would grow up to go to the Alaska gold rush in 1897, fight in the Philippines during the Spanish-American War in 1898, and become a leader in Idaho's timber industry. His son, Eugene, would serve as mayor of Boise from 1961 to 1965.

Acetylene bicycle lamps began to appear in 1898 after a city ordinance required them for riding after dark. The Statesman noted: "This peculiar illuminant produces a very strong white light. Jimmie Taylor has a cask of the material at the engine house. It looks like a barrel of broken rock. The gas is generated by water dripping on it."

Acetylene lamps had been used in some Idaho mines since 1892, but most miners still worked underground by the feeble light of candles. The new acetylene lights created new opportunities for bicyclers to gather and parade after dark, as 60 of them did after an "enthusiastic mass meeting" outside Boise's new castle-like city hall. When the Idaho Intermountain Fair closed its gates in September 1898, 300 illuminated and decorated bicycles took part in another evening parade, the largest yet.

What a sight it must have been.

Arthur Hart writes this column on Idaho history for the Idaho Statesman. It appears each Tuesday in the Life section. Reach him by e-mail at life@idahostatesman.com.