In the 1890's bicycles were popular. One invented by an undertaker in 1898 had a cooling board and served as a funeral layout on a three wheeled bicycle. The book "Crossroads of the West," by Albin Wagner, tells the story of the Sandpaper track that went from Denver to Brighton. The Sandpaper track was a gravel road that is now Old Brighton Road. Clubs used the sandpaper track for weekend bicycle tours and races. The prizes were free dinners at the Brighton Hotel for those who finished among the first half of the racers. The riders who reached the finish line last paid the bill for the meals. The winner of the races was known as the Buttermilk Boy because of the buttermilk the farmers along the route gave the cyclists for refreshment.

The Brighton Wheel Club was organized in June of 1897. At that time there were around 35 bikes in the town. That was a good portion of the population of Brighton.

The Denver Wheel Club sponsored races at their racetrack near Sand Creek in what is now Commerce City.

A dispute arose over the width of the right-of-way along the Union Pacific tracks and the railroad fenced off land they claimed which cut off Brighton Road in several places and stopped the races. The matter was in the courts for three years until pressure from the Platte Valley Farmers Association convinced the Union Pacific to remove the fences.

The Denver Wheel Club first used the Sandpaper track on November 21 of 1888. The Memorial Day annual 25-Mile handicap Road race started at Sand Creek and finished near Platteville. Thousands of fans lined the route and spectators could view the race for $1.25 for a round trip on a moving grandstand. Old newspapers found in the Denver Library Western History Dept. told of the Railroad Coaches that carried spectators.

The 1893 race had 170 contestants and the papers announced that teams and rollers had worked from early morning until late at night to put the course in the best possible condition. A special train pulled out of Union Depot at 9 o'clock in the morning with ten coaches going to Sand Creek, where the train halted long enough for passengers to witness the start to give the spectators a magnificent view in the "moving grand stand." Prize for that race was a medal and $75 for the man making the best time.

The Memorial Day race of May 30, 1895 was especially tough and newspapers devoted many columns telling of the "Refined Barbarity" that went on as blue-skinned wheelmen staggered over the track. Headlines screamed that contestants were "Fainting at the Tap with Foam and blood-stained lips," saying that one Rider became a raving maniac and went to the hospital and two men were in critical condition from cold and exhaustion.

The story in colorful reporter language of 1895 told of the storm that left the road shoe deep in mud and knee deep in water as 156 young men started out in the 7th annual 25 mile road race. Twenty-seven of the men finished in what the newspaper said was a travesty. It reported that most of the spectators who crowded 12 coaches at the Union Depot that morning saw the folly and inhumanity of the exhibition.

Rain had fallen for nearly 30 hours before the race started. Moving vans, hacks, buggies, break-carts and carriages were massed just south of Sand Creek Bridge where the road was on high ground. Pictures reported to be snap shots, but looking more like drawings, showed the driving rain, the large crowd and men wheeling their bicycles by hand. The paper speculated that with so many men falling in heaps of exhaustion it would be a wonder if some didn't die.

One man was brought into a farmhouse, bleeding at the nose and in great bodily pain. The bicyclist was put to bed and was seized with alternate chills and fever that greatly alarmed the people of the house.

Winner of the first place prize was C.I. Himstreet, who received an $800 Sterling Piano. Others won bicycles, watches and clothes.

The story ended with an interesting note "At one farm house where 19 bicyclists stopped for dinner it developed that not one of the entire party of 19 had any cash in his pockets. The woman in charge of the premises kindly fed the caller accepting their promises that the money would be forwarded her at an early day."

The story didn't say if the woman ever received payment for that food.