While thumbing through a pre-World War I guidebook of Indianapolis this week, I ran across a photo of a man standing beside an Indiana tollhouse. Oh sure, I’ve seen tollhouse photos and images of tollhouse keepers before, after all, I have a love affair with roads. I served on the board of the Indiana National Road Association for many years and as INRA’s Vice-President for a couple of years. I also co-wrote two books on the Indiana National Road (along with Irvingtonian Joe Jarzen). So yes, I do have a thing for roads.
But about that photo. This tollhouse photo was different. The well-dressed keeper stands in the doorway of a small log cabin tollhouse alongside a path that meanders along a waterway. The log cabin is a one-room structure with a window on three sides, a door in front, and a roof made of rustic splitwood shingles. The mudcat chimney can be seen in the background and the hearthstone stoop frames the cycle path against the old canal. The image was evidently taken in the fall as the trees are mostly defoliated and the gatekeeper wears a sensibly warm three-piece wool suit crowned by a derby hat.
Most importantly, just behind the keeper is a man on a bicycle. The photo is captioned “The Old Bicycle Toll Path with the toll hut and collector in the foreground.” Old Bicycle Toll Path? Like many Hoosiers, I think of bicycles as a modern conveyance. Oh, I knew bicycles had been around since the Wild West, I mean c’mon, we all saw Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid right? But for most people bikes were toys for tweens, transportation for teenagers awaiting a driver’s license, or fitness and recreation machines for adult weekend warriors.
Research tells us that cycling arrived in America in the 1890s, at first marketed towards women, the fad eventually caught on with both sexes, spawning bicycle clubs and wheelmen’s leagues all over the state. The popularity of “bicycling” dropped off dramatically in the United States between 1900 and 1910 as automobiles gained popularity. During the 1920s, bicycles gradually became considered children’s toys and by the 1940s most bicycles in the US were made for children. During World War II, bicycles were used by paratroopers for transportation; the term “bomber bikes” was created to refer to U.S. planes dropping bikes for the troops to use. Returning soldiers integrated bikes for use by children and adults alike and by the 1950-60s, bicycles were being marketed to families.
But a bicycle tollroad? Who knew? During the 1890s many organizations were formed by cycling enthusiasts in Indianapolis. Some were formed as “Wheelway” clubs while others were established for non-club and commercial purposes. In time, Wheelway Leagues were formed for the purpose of building, maintaining, and repairing wheel ways and cycle paths for cyclists riding pleasure. Most were built next to automobile roadways or carriage sidelines connecting community to community. These organizations issued pins, buttons, badges, medals, and ornate stamped metal bicycle attachments.
The Indianapolis Wheelway League was incorporated on February 29, 1896. The Articles of Incorporation state the League’s main purpose “is the construction of a cycle path near the city.” The Indianapolis Cycle Path began at 22nd Street just below Crown Hill Cemetery and ran north past Broad Ripple and into Nora. By mid-May construction began on the first section of the path on what once was the towpath of the Indiana canal. When finished it would extend to a length of 24 miles. Sites along the route included several long-lost Circle-City respites: Armstrong’s Park, Haverstick’s Farm, Malott Park, Fairview Park, and Hammond’s Park along the Westfield Pike and over the tracks of the Monon Railroad.
The Good Roads Bulletin of September 18, 1896, stated: “The most picturesque bicycle path in the United States was recently opened in Indianapolis with elaborate ceremony. Two months ago the Wheelway League of this city was incorporated for the purpose of building a bicycle path to be open to the public. It was capitalized at $10,000 and the riders of the city were asked to take stock at $5 a share.” According to the July-December 1896 issue of the same magazine, “The (canal) path had not been used for many years, and when work began on it, it was little more than a mere levee, with a rank growth of trees and shrubs on one side and the slow-running waters of the canal on the other. The canal is on the east side of the path, which gives the full benefit of the shade of the trees during the afternoon.”
The article describes the cycle path’s construction as, ”The path varies in length, conforming to the top of the levee, but it is not less than eight feet wide at any place, and in some places as much as twelve feet. The levee was first dressed off with a road scraper, and then a coat of gravel, slightly mixed with earth, was well packed with a heavy roller. On top of this was rolled a thin coating of cinders, and sand mixed, making as smooth a coat as could be desired, and one that has no suction to cling to the tire.”
The Sept. 4, 1896 Logansport Pharos-Tribune noted, “Under favoring conditions $75 to $150 per mile. The surface width of the path should not be less than four feet and need not be more than seven feet, except in rare cases. The paths are generally laid out on the grass-grown roadside, parallel with the wagonway. The grass is first close cut to the ground, after which the material (soft coal, cinders, or screened gravel) is put on in a thin layer and so shaped and packed as to slope downward from the center to each side. The grade in most cases follows closely the original surface of the ground.”
The May 12, 1897 Indianapolis News reported, “There is more enthusiasm in cycling in Indianapolis this season than ever before… Indianapolis is going rapidly to the front as a wheelman’s center- not one of individual riders- but one in which the wheelmen are well-organized and prepared to enjoy the bicycle to its fullest extent.” The article goes on to list some names of the Indianapolis bicycle clubs: The Zigzags, The Outings, The Waverlys, The Allens, The Carlton Club, and the Ridiculous (composed of Circle-City bicycle dealers) described as “progressive in deviltry.” Although popular, funding the cycle path was always a problem. The May 31, 1897 Indianapolis News wrote: “The Wheelway League has put up a large canvas sign on the Broad Ripple Cycle Path, requesting the public to “Drop That Dollar” and “Give Up That V” (Victory Nickel) at the toll-gate.”
And what about that gatekeeper? One undated newspaper clipping from the Indianapolis Journal described “the toll gatekeeper- usually an old woman or an old man- appeared at the door of the little shanty, set flush with the road, and received the pennies or the ticket that had been purchased at some gate farther up the road… It is pointed out that while the position of gatekeeper seems to be an easy job, the man or woman who “tended the pole” had many troubles to contend with. One of the annoyances was that of young men trying to “run” the gate. In every neighborhood were young fellows who were known to be disposed to pass gates without paying.”
In answer to that problem, the June 6, 1896 Indianapolis News reported, “the scorcher had better look out, however, for if caught he will be dealt with without gloves. The directors of the league will have five detectives on the path all of the time and any person caught riding over ten miles an hour will be arrested. The path is on private ground all of the way and the league can make its own rules and regulations.”
It should be noted that the land for the cycle path was owned by the Indianapolis Water Company which donated it for use as a cycle path. As the years went by several enterprising Hoosiers began to build “pop-up” stands (some seedier than others) selling everything from ice cream and candy to beer and hard liquor. The August 13, 1899 Indianapolis Journal reported, “The Indianapolis Water Company… announced that after the present season the Water Company would close the cycle path…The reason assigned for the move is that it is generally understood that several clubhouses will be built on the strip of land between the canal and the river, just north of Riverside Park, and that this would bring an objectionable element to that vicinity.”
The cycle path eventually fell into disrepair, the wheelmen’s leagues disbanded and the popularity of bicycling fell off appreciably. The tollhouse, although sturdy in the truest Hoosier pioneer style, was not built to last and likely disappeared for the cycle path sometime after World War I. As did the fledgling profession of Indianapolis Cycle Path toll collector.
Al Hunter is the author of the “Haunted Indianapolis” and co-author of the “Haunted Irvington” and “Indiana National Road” book series. His newest books are “Bumps in the Night. Stories from the Weekly View,” “Irvington Haunts. The Tour Guide,” and “The Mystery of the H.H. Holmes Collection.” Contact Al directly at Huntvault@aol.com or become a friend on Facebook.
