The 5 tallest peaks I conquered.......as a young boy

I grew up in the mountainous regions of Dayton, Ohio......WHOA, WHOA, WHOA.....Hold on now. Don't go thinking this is one of my stories where I tend to stretch the truth. The operative words here are "grew up". And, when you are a 8 or 9 year old boy trying to pump your bike up a tall hill, to you it is Mt. Everest, and you wonder if you will ever succeed or simply die on the slope. So yes, to a young Skeeter kid, it WAS a mountainous region.

Now, let me finish and see if you don't agree with me or maybe you have some choices of your own.

Where I grew up on Sandhurst Drive in Dayton, our home was only a block from the Stillwater River. And being located that close to the river, obviously we sat low in the kinda valley, and since the river flowed North to South, as most rivers do, that meant that venturing either West or East was going to be an upward journey.

The first peak that I conquered was going west on Siebenthaler and was just a block away and ran parallel to Sandhurst. I learned to hike the peak on foot before I tried it on my bike early on as I would walk to school with my friend, Bobby Ritter., . We would leave about 15 minutes before the bell rang at Our Lady of Mercy catholic school, taking our time as we looked for cigarette butts that we might smoke along the way.

The school and church were only midway up the hill, so we didn't have to top the crest. Occasionally though when I rode my bike up Siebenthaler I would pump to the top to go meet some of friends from school at their hilltop homes. It was tough, and little did I know I was building up my body for even greater challenges.

The second peak was also on Siebenthaler, but this time it was going from west to east. There was a wonderful arch bridge that crossed the Stillwater River that I mentioned earlier. Since the bridge was high above the river, you could get a pretty good speed built up as you crossed it and headed down a steep slope that would give you enough momentum to at least get to the Deweese Parkway turn, which again was just about midway going up East Siebenthaler. But here again, the last several hundred feet was going to be the toughest. I would stand on each pedal trying to move my bike just a few more inches. We didn't have any fancy 3 speed or let alone 10 speed bikes back in those days. You just gutted it out.

Number three was Wampler Avenue. This summit had to be conquered simply out of necessity. It was on the direct route to Loos School/Woods where I would spend every summer. It also was only a block away from where I would pick up my Dayton Daily Newspapers at the corner of Daleview and Melford,  which I would then throw from my bike. The pump up the hill was savage, but the mountain though did had it's pluses. It was the finest place to go sled riding in the neighborhood. Also, we would ride our soap box carts made out of anything that had wheels down the peak racing each other as we flew down the street.

The fourth peak on my list of accomplishments was Hillcrest Avenue. The name itself indicated that it was ominous. I had a friend who lived off of Hillcrest, Jerry Anthony, but again, the saving grace was that his street was about midway and I could get a break. Another plus was that the cutest girl lived on Hillcrest, right after you topped the highest part of the mountain, and all of your efforts were rewarded if  Linda Koogler happened to be in her front yard. Seeing her would cause you to peddle even faster as if the climb had been a piece of cake.

And finally, Mt Everest itself. Drill Hill. It was actually named Drill Avenue but we knew it as Drill Hill, or sometimes Hell Hill. The meanest, the cruelest, the most unforgiving peak in my small world. It wasn't on any routine path of mine and fortunately there were other routes where you could use to bypass the ferocious summit. I'd be lying if I told you that I rode to the top of Drill Hill without having to get off of my bike. I did get off. Several times. But I eventually made it. It made me proud.

I remember one time driving up Drill Hill a few years later in my '53 Chevy. I had to climb it in first gear just to give you an idea how steep one of nature's (and man's) greatest creations could be.

So there you have it. Five mountains in my small world. Each conquered one at a time. Memories that I am glad I have.