Bicycle Handicap

I was born in December, therefore I have a bicycle handicap. How’s that you say? Well because I had a December birthday I could never get a bike for my birthday. I was given a trike that I rode in the basement when I was about three. The basement “track” consisted of only 20’ between the fruit room door and the sump pump. Sump pump? Yes, in the spring our basement filled anywhere from 12 inches to 3 feet with sub water, so it not only was a short track but it was seasonal. Because of the damp conditions there were critters of the slimy variety that lived there. We had numerous tiny frogs and several salamanders at various times that would hide under the make-shift shower that my mom put in for the boys. My mom at times took after scrubbing and cloroxing the basement as if she were having a home show. It was after one of these times that I went down to ride my trike. I hopped on and backed out of my parking spot when a water snake fell off the front wheel and slithered off to hide by the furnace. Now there are few things I like less than snakes, I let out a blood curdling scream and ran upstairs. That ended my riding days in the basement.
When I got old enough to ride a bike there was really no place to ride, the basement 20 feet was too short, we had no garage pad or cement walkway of any kind and the state highway in front of the house in Grover was just too dangerous. So I was deprived of wheels and consequently learning to ride a bike in the formative years of my childhood.
The summer after my second grade my parents started building houses in the “city” of Rexburg, Idaho. I now had access to pavement and friends with bikes. They were not only willing to teach me how to ride but were willing to loan me their bikes as well. You all know it is easier to get started on a bike if you have a bit of a hill to go down. That is all we had was hills and I thought I caught on pretty fast. In fact before I knew it I had ridden all the way down to town which was about six blocks away. Now my mom hadn’t given me any boundaries as to how far I could go, I guess she figured I wouldn’t go any further than I could walk but she didn’t realize that I had wheels. My dad got in his pick-up and came after me, brought me home and I was grounded, I couldn’t go further than a half a block. I still didn’t get a bike until I was in high school when Dad bought Christy and me matching Schwinn bikes. Finally, my own wheels, but by then I ready for four wheels instead of two.
Last summer my daughter, Merissa, thought we should go on a bike ride. She hopped on her new road bike and I mounted her mountain bike with clip-in pedals. She gave me a short course of how to ride while your feet are riveted to the bike. Okay lesson number one, clip one foot in, push off and clip the other foot in, I got it! This is as easy as…well… riding a bike.. or so I thought. I made the first corner in great form and we were off with the breeze blowing through our hair on a perfect summer evening riding in the mountains of the Tetons. We could have been a commercial for hair conditioner or sunglasses or something glamorous like that. When we got to the corner where I had to stop, out of habit I put my left pedal down and went to put my right foot to the ground but it was clipped to its pedal and with no free foot to brace my fall, I went over. This was not glamorous. Lesson number two, the pedal that you want to unclip should be down so you can escape. You know the best thing to do after a fall is just get back on which I did. We had a great ride. I think with a little more practice I might be able to overcome my childhood handicap or I might have to go to four wheels, you know, add the training wheels to the bike.