It’s not a hobby for everyone.

I’m not even sure I can recommend it to anyone.

I’m entering my 22nd year of highwheeling, a very rare past-time, even more so for a senior citizen.

The challenges are obvious.

Riding an 1890 Victorian bicycle involves balance, fitness and courage.

It’s not recommended by Medicare, AARP or Geisinger Gold. But I do it anyway.

And I’m proud to be one of very few in the country to preserve the legacy of one of man’s most significant inventions.

Of course, I’ve paid a stiff price. Mostly in the early years.

Twice I fell and cracked my ribs. Painful injuries, but not as bad as broken bones that came later.

In 2007, I was victim of what’s called a header. That’s when the wheel stops abruptly and the rider is tossed headfirst into the ground.

That mishap killed many riders of the 1880s and was partly responsible for the end of the dangerous highwheel.

It happened to me in front of hundreds attending Civil War Weekend at Eckley Miners Village. To avoid breaking my neck, I put my arms forward as I fell. It worked. I broke one wrist and sprained the other.

This was unfortunate for me, a home-based journalist. I kept the injury a secret, learning to type stories with one hand. Of course, readers never knew. Nor did the staff at the newspaper.

Days later, I rode the highwheel in public with three broken bones - another secret. To do it, I wore long shirt sleeves to cover the plaster arm cast. That little trick allowed me to fulfill an obligation to appear in a big East Bangor centennial parade. Nobody knew I was injured. But what a gamble I took.

So why do this? Easy answer.

The highwheel is my passion. I made up my mind years ago to try and preserve the legacy of a machine that changed our world. It’s story which must never be forgotten. In truth, it already is.

“Oh, I love your big unicycle,” people say.

No, sorry. I don’t ride a unicycle.

The highwheel is older and more important. It wasn’t simply the world’s first bicycle. Far more.

It was the first machine to allow man to use his own power to travel far distance over land.

It inspired the invention of the airplane and automobile. It gave us the first paved roads in America, 1885, long before the car.

It also helped to spawn the women’s suffrage movement, prompting athletic gals to give up their long dresses and instead don bloomers.

The bonus of riding high is a sense of exhilaration. The rider sits above the fray in a way that provides a new look at the world. It’s a feeling of flight and euphoria.

And maybe that’s why I do it. I’ve always wanted to soar high like a bird. That longing became reality 22 years ago.

Today’s youngsters build ramps and halfpipes to put excitement into their small bicycles. They want to fly. With the highwheel, those gimmicks are unnecessary.

Sadly, the big wheel presents too many challenges for most people to embrace.

Learning takes time. One must push the bike to get it moving and then leap up into the saddle using a very small steel peg protruding from the bike’s spine.

The rider straddles the giant wheel and is seated very close to the center of balance. Lean forward and you will topple. Lose your balance in any manner and you’ll fall far.

Other obstacles are expense and availability. There are only maybe 5,000 antique highwheels remaining in the world. Buying one costs anywhere between $5,000 to $10,000.

And you’ll need a truck or van to transport it.

If a part breaks, a replacement piece must be custom crafted at a machine shop.

Still, the rewards of being a highwheeler far exceed hardships. For me, the highwheel has opened doors.

I’ve done demonstrations in New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania, making new friends everywhere I’ve been.

I’ve given talks at museums, schools and heritage centers.

I was invited to ride my machine to honor chocolatier Milton Hershey. He was a highwheeler in his day.

I also had the privilege of leading a grand parade of million dollar cars at Concours d’Elegance.

Yet another time, I was honored be part of the 125th anniversary re-enactment of Thomas Edison’s electrical experiment.

No, highwheeling isn’t for everyone. But for the few who dare to try, it can become a way of life.

And you’ll discover the feeling of flight.