The freedom to go exploring on a bike can be the beginning of a young boy’s independence.
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I still remember it today. It was a bright cherry red with black accents meticulously placed in all the right spots. The handles were black rubber with easy grips. The tires looked like they were ready for any terrain available. Jutting up was a common seat with no thrills, enough to get the job done. Across the top tube read the word Huffy. I loved my bicycle.
With a couple of dollar bills tucked into my sock for a drink and snack, I would set off and have unbridled adventures that lasted hours.
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In the mind of a child, a bicycle represents adventure, excitement, and unmatched elation. A bike also presents your first taste of independence and decision making. No longer were you forced to sit in the backseat of your mom’s tank of a Mercury. You were in the driver’s seat, navigating your way across the vast landscape of your neighborhood and imagination.
Independence is a funny thing. It has a way of flashing its presence without warning. I distinctly remember particular times growing up when I was self-aware of this feeling. Obtaining my driver’s license, signing the lease on my college apartment, and cashing the paycheck from my first job are all moments that brought about immense feelings of independence. From my recollection, though, the origin of this feeling all started on the back of my bicycle.
I remember that I was tentative when I first started riding. I began by exploring the streets closest to home, making sure that I could always catch a glimpse of our property. I would ride after school when the weather was nice and had my favorite routes. I knew where to avoid the mammoth gaps wanting to swallow my tires. I steered clear of the house that looked haunted. I would always save the downhill slopes for last, looking forward to that final blast of breeze in my face.
During the summer days of the early 90’s, I could be seen riding through every park, side-street, shopping center and neighborhood Versailles had to offer. With a couple of dollar bills tucked into my sock for a drink and snack, I would set off and have unbridled adventures that lasted hours. The understanding was that I would be back before dinner. Rarely if ever did I test the limitations of my parent’s expectations. Even at that young age, I understood that the freedom I was embarking upon was a privilege, not a given right.
A bicycle is a golden ticket to a young person. The secret door in the wall opens when you start peddling and what follows is a barrage of life lessons.
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Every young child riding a bicycle will learn an inevitable lesson…you will have accidents and they will be painful. This lesson, although difficult at the time, prepared me to understand how life worked. Accidents will happen when you are least prepared. Smooth riding with the sun on your face is a blessing, not an expected occurrence. Falling teaches you resilience and persistence. Are you going to wallow in that loose gravel or pick yourself up?
On those long summer days, my bike helped me become acquainted with my surroundings. The sights, smells, and noises would send me into sensory overload. The places I had only seen from the backseat of a car were now calling me to explore and experience. I also still remember the grueling hills that needed to be climbed in order to make it home. It didn’t matter from which compass rose direction I approached, there was always a hill. This lesson didn’t go unnoticed.
A bicycle is a golden ticket to a young person. The secret door in the wall opens when you start peddling and what follows is a barrage of life lessons. Through the years, bicycle riding has been attributed with wonderful life analogies. As a young boy, I would not have been able to explain the fundamental lessons being instilled within me, only that I loved the vehicle they were being delivered in.
If you want to remember what that first feeling of independence tasted like, hop on a bicycle and take a ride with no desired destination. Put everything out of your mind except the humming of your tires. Try to put aside those things weighing on your heart and mind. Once peddling becomes an afterthought, you’re finally free to be a kid again.
Previously published in The State Journal
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Photo: GettyImages