July 8. 1914

I have bought a Sunbeam three speed bicycle. It looks much the same as Corina's except it has a straight frame or the male model. With a coordination of riding costumes, we can look like members of the same Tour de France team. British riders would be competitive in that grueling series of races. I’ve read in the newspaper about the assassination of Franz Ferdinand, the Archduke of Austria in Sarajevo, a Balkan city, on the first day of this year's tour. I hope this competition would become more international and promote the goodwill of mankind. There is nothing like spirited sweat to create new comrades.

My Sunbeam arrived yesterday on the train, and I assembled it in the baggage room of the Depot. Corina received a box of cosmetics, saw me with my tools and suggested, "Oh, let's take in a ride in the morning." I energetically agreed and tested my new ride by racing down Lincoln Avenue, bouncing across the 2nd Street Bridge and skidding to a stop in front of my Brooklyn home. It performed far better than any of my childhood bicycles and I cannot wait to use the gears to climb a hill.

I rode to Corina's house this morning, unquestionably too early. She poked her head out the front door, still in her dressing gown and shouted "Goodness you're enthusiastic. Go get a cup of coffee and come back in a half an hour."

At my return, she modeled a pair of dark gray wool knickers, a thigh-length, padded-shouldered blue dress, opened to the waist, a white blouse with a large red bow tied below the collars and topped it off with a flat straw hat. "What do you think?" she asked spinning around.

"Lovely, very sporting."

"The wildflowers are gorgeous along Spring Creek Road. Do you want to go there?"

Before I could reply, she pedaled down Oak Street. I sprinted to catch her. Looking up the road I saw JJ and his mates, Jack and Dim, walking toward us. They demonstrated the feral rowdiness of being up all night.

JJ crowed, "Miss Engelhart you can ride in my saddle anytime."

His buddies cackled and hooted. I snapped my head to glare at him as we passed. He clutched his fists, pushed them toward his waist in a humping motion and howled. Corina ignored them. Offended, I steamed and followed her.

An exquisite morning, the sun peeped over the hillside then backlit the trees, flowers, and sparkling creek. The climb was short and moderate. She pulled over to the grass around the reservoir and gracefully hopped off her bike. Disappointed, I looked up the ascending road and lamented, "I wanted to try out all three gears."

Her eyes and red lips smiled, "Go ahead, I'll be right here. I'll lay out cheese, crackers and strawberries for your return. Don't be too long."

I dashed up the hill and down. She laid prone with her pretty head resting in her hands, hat tilted back and closely staring at a large group of blue and white columbines. I stretched out next to her trying not to disturb her concentration. A breeze made the flowers sway from side to side.

"What would it be like if humans were androgynous?" she asked.

"You mean having the characteristics or nature of both male and female like the flowers?"

"Yes, we wouldn't be just feminine or masculine, but a combination of both."

"Hmmm."

"Thinking about sex all the time and hiding thoughts about sex is distracting."

"So, you think people lust daily and feel guilty about it."

"That covers it, at least the young and probably the old too. What if we were like eunuchs for 26 days and sexually active for 4 or 5 days of the month? It could go either way being a male or a female. Maybe you're a mother this time and a father the next. Humanity would share bearing and raising children. It would end the slavery of marriages. I told you, Margaret Sanger’s mother had 18 children in 22 years and died at age 50.”

“Your Woman Rebel publisher,” I recalled.

“Yes. What if two lovers were both male? Wow, what a change of pace!"

"Or both female."

"Exactly, have some fun and then we're done for the month. What’s the first question at birth, 'Is it a boy or girl?' Should I give a blue or pink outfit? Consequently, we then think, act, dress and are treated differently, like subspecies, by our families. Wouldn't it be better if we started out the same?  You wouldn't have your penis hanging there every day."

I am certain I blushed to the roots of my hair. With feigned aplomb, I replied, "You continue your delicate way of saying things."

"I wonder if I would miss my breasts."

"I would."

She smiled devilishly. "Contraception would still be a must to control the population. Soft and assuring males together with strong females that don't cry and faint all the time. It's a great concept. Wouldn't it be better to take to your bed for a few days of excitement then have no remorse? Like other mammals, there would only be sex by mutual consent and no rape. Meaning voluntary abstinence and acceptable indulgence. It would end sexual frustration and the fear of sex. Seduction would be possible but must be well timed. Parlors are full of eunuchs; females avoid seduction and males promote it.  I'd rather just talk about interesting things."

"Indeed, penitence follows penis in every dictionary I've read."

"True, and it is preceded by that pointy word, peninsula."

I reddened again and was feeling a little pointy.

She rolled to her side and gazed deeply onto my eyes, "Do you know what women really like?"

Hypnotized I replied, "No."

"A stolen kiss."

She hesitated only a moment, pulled me close and placed her red, soft lips gently on mine. I sensed the shape of them for what seemed a blissful eternity. I was really feeling pointy when I was thunderstruck with a thought and blurted out, "Will I get Tuberculosis now?"

She held my face tenderly in her hands, "No, no Julius, it is an airborne disease. I would have to have a meaningful cough and you gasp at the same time. Even then, you are young, healthy with a quality diet, and your body would get rid of the bacteria. Shush now, don't worry. It’s disease of poor and malnourished people."

I looked into her beguiling eyes and saw the sorrow show. I realized her illness had banished her too.

We laid there for a long, silent time. I looked at the cumulus clouds drifting helplessly in the blue as porcelain sky. She placed a long blade of grass in her mouth and rolled back to look at the swaying columbines. Finally, she exclaimed, "I forgot the cheese, crackers and fruit."

She stood, took them from her bicycle basket and served them to me on a napkin.

Sitting, she alleged, "You were mad at JJ for what he said to me." I only nodded. "Clumsy flirting is not a crime. I ignored him, which all young women are taught to do. You need to ignore him too."

"He is a rude, coarse, despicable man."

"He is. Now promise to me to ignore him and all wicked people."

I stared at her and reluctantly replied, "I promise."

"Don't forget."

"I won't."

As I write tonight, I wonder how I will be ever able to keep that promise. I certainly will try. Friendships between men and women are difficult to maintain because of sexual temptation. She is spot on with her conclusion. Men and women are totally different. If we were the same, would we be like steers wandering through life?  That is an unsolvable mystery. Nonetheless, Corina continues to intrigue me as a truly peculiar female.

Diary Ignored

July 28, 1914

Except for the occasional scribble, I have ignored my diary. Tourist season is in full swing. I have little desire to describe serving and showing them to their rooms. Although the river entices, I have less time to enjoy angling. I help families fish by baiting hooks and netting trout. Primarily, I ate, worked and slept for the last 20 days.

Corina came to the Cabin dining room several times for coffee and conversation. She was in low spirits with the completion of the first Normal School graduation of 27 teachers. She wished she was among them but rationalized she preferred living in an urban environment rather than in a rural schoolhouse.

The bombshell, a statewide amendment for Colorado Prohibition will appear on the midterm ballot this fall. And now a summary of local news includes: Town Attorney, C. R. Monson and former town engineer, Frank Von Alkire were granted by the town council to pursue plans for the new Fish Creek Reservoir for Steamboat's water supply. A sum of $50,000 was earmarked for six miles of additional sewer line in town. Agriculturally, 8,000 crates of strawberries were shipped to date which almost equals the amount for the entire 1913 season.