Our forgotten but notable neighbors – Carl Schultz

Have you ever stumbled upon a story that, at first glance, seems unbelievable but, in the end, turns out to be true — a “fact is stranger than fiction” case?

One such story that I recently not only stumbled across, but which caused me to fall flat on my face, figuratively speaking, of course, concerns a fellow from Spring Valley named Carl Schultz. Having both the adventurous spirit and wanderlust associated with the pioneers, and the endurance of explorers like Admiral Perry and Ernest Shackleton, Carl was driven to achieve things that simply defy the imagination.

Back in 1922, during his summer break from Spring Valley High School and just a week before his 16th birthday, Carl would take a historic ride on his bicycle. But with Carl, taking a ride did not mean the same thing as it does for you and me. The previous year he “took a ride” up to Niagara Falls, crossed the Peace Bridge into Canada, and then rode back home. Then, after Christmas, he decided to ride up to Albany but, after getting as far as the Catskills, he was forced to turn back when the temperatures dropped to about 9 degrees below zero.

In 1922, with $4.65 in his pocket, two pots of beans, 4 loaves of bread that his mother baked, and a blanket for his bedroll, Carl began what was supposed to have been a one-way Transcontinental Bicycle Trip. In the end, it turned out to be a five month long, 9,000-mile, coast-to-coast round-trip during which he weathered snow, desert storms, extreme heat, starvation, excruciating thirst, psychological isolation, and generic physical torture. It is not certain whether he was the first person to have made such a journey but there is no doubt that, by far and away, he was the youngest person to have done so. His record has not yet been surpassed, and it is highly unlikely that it ever will.

Leaving Spring Valley on April 13, 1922, a week before his 16th birthday, Carl first rode to Manhattan where he was given a letter by NYC Mayor Hylan, to be delivered to Mayor Cryer of LA. Sporting a small “Los Angeles or Bust!” sign and a Spring Valley, NY pennant attached to his bike, he arrived in Los Angeles 74 days later, on June 28, having spent 54 of the days riding his bike and working an additional 17 to support himself.

Along the way, he would occasionally write letters to his parents which would be reported in the local newspapers. In one of his earliest letters, he told of working on a farm near St. Louis to earn some “jack”. From there he rode across Missouri and Kansas, and a slice of Oklahoma while following the largely unpaved Santa Fe Trail, much of which hadn’t changed since the wagon train era. 

After arriving in Santa Fe, New Mexico, he continued through Arizona before finally arriving in California. On the way to LA, he crossed the Rocky Mountains and passed through parts of Death Valley and the Mojave Desert. Upon arriving, he delivered the letter to Mayor Cryer, to much fanfare. Years after, Carl reminisced that by the time he arrived in L.A. he had lost 19 lbs. and was “half dead”.

Following a brief period of recuperation, Carl took a “short trip” into Mexico, and then rode up to San Francisco. He apparently had intended to take a train ride back east but, that turned out to be impossible as there was a Nationwide Railroad Strike that began on July 1, 1922, and which would continue for two months. Having to get back to Spring Valley for school and not knowing when the strike would end, Carl hopped back on his bike and began riding home.

After crossing the Sierra Madre mountains, he passed thru the lava beds of the Black River Desert of northern Nevada, and the Great Salt Lake desert of Utah, and then continued through Wyoming, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and Michigan, while vaguely following the Lincoln Highway.

The Lincoln Highway was the first attempt at having a decent, unified coast-to-coast road suitable for automobiles. Conveniences like roadway lighting, rest areas, filling stations, etc. that we take for granted were still largely non-existent. The roads that existed in the early 1920s, would be largely unrecognizable to those of us who are familiar with the modern National Interstate Highway System of today.

Upon arriving in Detroit, Carl notified his mother that he planned to be home by 1:00 pm the next day, September 23. In order to arrive on time, he rode for 23 out of the next 24 hours, traveling about 600 miles, first thru Ontario, Canada before re-entering the US in Buffalo and then heading south to Spring Valley. In the end, he arrived at 3:30. He attributed his lateness of 2½ hours to having had to repair a flat tire. This was followed by a ticker-tape parade at Manhattan’s Columbus Circle, where he had to have four policemen protecting him from people in the crowd who were trying to take pieces of his bike for souvenirs.

What is most amazing about Carl’s 9,000-mile trip is not the horrendous quality of some of the roads that he had to traverse, the deserts and mountains that he had to cross, or the thirst, the hunger, and the physical and mental challenges that he had to overcome.

What was most amazing is that the bicycle he was riding on was a typical, inexpensive, single-speed bike, the kind that every high school kid at the time would ride to get from here to there. It was totally different than today’s lightweight, multi-gear, sleek bikes that people ride as they flock to Nyack every weekend. Carl’s bike had only one gear, hickory-wood wheels, coaster brakes, and no front light. Beyond all this, according to Sammie van Gerbig of the “Old Spokes Home Bicycle Museum” in Burlington, Vermont, Carl’s bike had single-tube tires, which were “among the worst curses ever forced on cyclists… The fact that he (Carl) made it out to the West Coast and back on those tires is what amazes me most.”

Once the hoopla was over, Carl took his place back in Spring Valley H.S. as a minor celebrity, but one who still had to study, do homework, take tests and ride his bike to-and-from school like the other kids. Carl Schultz never lost his wanderlust, the need to keep moving and pushing himself to the limit. He would work in his family’s moving business, eventually running the operation. Specializing in long-distance moves, he would continue in the business for 60 years, and would be one of the founders of the United Van Lines Company. Years after he returned from his Double Transcontinental Bicycle Trip, he became an accomplished ice skater and was selected to represent the US in the 1932 Winter Olympics in the long-distance races. Sadly, he would not compete due to the need to help in his family’s business. However, he continued to be physically active into his 80s.

According to former Rockland Journal News reporter Jamie Kempton, who interviewed Carl in the mid-1980s, he was still walking 20 miles a day around Rockland Lake. But the end comes even to the hardiest of hardies. Carl passed away in 1993 at the age of 87 and was laid to rest in the Brick Church Cemetery.

(Many thanks to the New City Library’s staff for their research assistance.)

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