Like Riding a Bike

 

My experience was nothing like Calvin’s. His bike was vindictive, mine was merely passive/aggressive. My parents decided that it was time my brother and I graduated to real bikes. I was about 11, my brother was about 7. Neither of us had any experience with bikes before. His had training wheels, mine didn’t. Albert grasped the concept quickly and was riding like a pro. I was just told to go ride my bike. No instruction. I asked if I could have training wheels until I became better acquainted with things, but was told I was too old for that.

 

So I fell down a lot. Had zero interest in conquering this new skill, but was compelled to continue because “We got you a bike. Now use it.”

 

My friend Debbie tried to help. I would get on the bike and stand in place until she was ready. Then as I lifted my feel to the pedals, she would push from behind and off I would go. Off, as in off the bike and onto the ground. This was a rural neighborhood with no sidewalks. Just a bumpy street lined with stickers and thistles along the sides. Many times I ended up wobbling along for a few feet and then right into the stickers.

 

I gradually mastered the art of staying upright most of the time, but never felt confident. If I could just go in a straight line I was OK. Making turns was challenging. I never went anywhere in public where I would actually deal with any kind of traffic.

 

By the way, this was around 1965. No gears. No breaks. If you wanted to stop, you’d back pedal. But there was one thing that I did get right and did a magnificent job at:

 

I HAD PLAYING CARDS CLOTHESPINNED TO THE SPOKES!!!