A Youngster's Enthusiasm for Riding
Remember the old days?
I used to ride my bike with friends to a convenient store to buy candy and ice cream and root beer and chips. We’d grab change out of our parents’ wallets and just ride. We’d fill up our stomachs and, bloated and happy, we’d ride back.
Riding our bike to that store felt like the ultimate freedom. It was like we were getting away with something, partaking in an activity that only we knew about. It became our thing.
Sometimes I long for those days — where the only task before me for the day was to round up the guys, jump in the saddle and ride to the store for whatever looked good that afternoon.
There are moments when this happens today, but it’s different now. For example, I cherish the early mornings when I wake up before the sun, have a quick cuppa joe, scarf down a banana and maybe some peanut butter on bread and head out the door for a ride on the mountain bike.
There’s the smell of the pine needles, the sound of the knobby tires crunching them, the suspension responding to the roots and rocks. The sighting of wildlife. Bliss.
And then it’s back to reality — one I’m happy with. But again, it’s different.
The last couple months I was reminded of why I love bikes as I watched my eldest daughter enjoy “bike club,” as she calls it. We signed her up for a class sponsored by a local bike shop that teaches youngsters valuable skills on a mountain bike. There’s kids as young as two (on balance bikes, which I highly recommend to all parents!) and high school teens. The coaches would take groups, predetermined by skill level, on tame courses through the woods, a pump track and even down grass hills to practice braking and steering.
It was tough convincing her to go the first week. (Anything new to four-year-olds is … challenging.) But after that first class, where she met new friends and made lasting memories, she was hooked. And so were we — $25 well spent.
OK, technically the cost was a little more than the $25 registration fee. We had to buy the bike, the helmet and the silly sprinkle gloves. Still, a small price to pay for the amount of joy she finds in the activity.
I hope my kids grow up loving to ride bikes. And if not, that’s OK, too. I only hope they find something that brings joy and the feeling of freedom.