My father worked in a coal mine in the Xinjiang Construction Corps 40 years ago, when materials were scarce, the conditions were very poor in all aspects, and the transportation was even more inconvenient. I go out by walking, and few people have bicycles. I remember that when I went out at that time, I used to take a tractor that hauled coal and cement in a unit, and a Jiefang brand car that could pull goods was considered a high standard.
Dad's unit is a sub-regimental unit, with only an old-fashioned jeep that often breaks down. Dad is a small leader, and his work needs to run around a lot, so he bought a black Hongqi brand 28 big bar bicycle. You must know that at that time, there were no roads there at all, and there were desolate and rugged Gobi Desert everywhere, although it did not obstruct traffic, but it was still very tiring to ride a bicycle.
At that time, there were many awesome people in Dad's unit, including a senior mechanic serving a prison sentence in the Kuomintang, an engineer who supported the construction of Xinjiang, and an electromechanical technician who graduated from a prestigious university. Together, they worked together to modify and upgrade Dad's bike, installing an engine so that there was no need for pedals, and like motorcycles, it would be very labor-saving, and such modified bikes were popular for a while.
Forty years ago, China's economy was not as developed as it is today, and people's living standards were relatively low. At that time, owning a bike was already a great thing. My father, on the other hand, put a motor on his bicycle and turned it into a "motorcycle".
I still remember that time, my father would ride my "motorcycle" to school every day. The back seat was widened a bit by my father with a tin sheet so that I could sit more securely. Every morning, my father would wake up early to prepare breakfast for me. Then, we walked out of the house together, my father was riding his "motorcycle", and I sat in the back seat and hugged his waist tightly. In the early morning sun, we walked through the streets of the town and felt the morning breeze on our faces. It was a wonderful feeling that made me feel like a free bird.
Although that "motorcycle" was not as fast as a real motorcycle, it was enough for me at the time. When this motorcycle is accompanied by the clattering sound of the motor and the black smoke released, it still makes many friends envious.
However, as time went on, that "motorcycle" also gradually became dilapidated. The motor is getting louder and louder, and the belt is often broken. But Father always went out of his way to fix it so that it could continue to serve us. It wasn't until I was in junior high school that my family bought a real motorcycle, a Jialing motorcycle, and that bike retired with honor.
In the blink of an eye, 40 years have passed, and now, I have stepped into the ranks of the elderly. But when I think back to the days when I was a kid sitting on the back seat of my father's "motorcycle", I feel a warm feeling in my heart. The "motorcycle" is no longer there, but it remains in my memory forever. It represents my father's love for me and the special memories of that era.
My father has left this world, but his love remains in my heart forever. Whenever I see a bicycle or hear the sound of a motor, I think of the days I spent with my father as a child. It was the best memory of my life and my most precious treasure.