Learning to Ride

I think we all learn to ride a bike in the same way: trike first, then when we graduate to two wheels, we do so with training wheels for a while. When the training wheels come off, someone helps you maintain balance by hanging on to the back of the seat, until they let you go and before you know it you’ve been riding unassisted, if somewhat wobbly, all on your own. Simple. So long as you maintain balance. And steer.

I learned as you did. The day came that the wheels came off. My father was guiding my ride, running alongside, his hand on the seat. He let go, and off I went. The bike was still a little tall for me, even with the seat lowered as far as it would go. I was sure that I would never get my feet off the pedals and onto the ground before I would fall if I applied brakes. I usually didn’t use the brakes, though. I usually just put my feet on the ground and skid to a halt. I didn’t think about stopping then, though. I was so proud. I was riding my bike. By myself! Like a big kid! I was a little scared, too. A whole lot scared. I was sure I would topple over. I didn’t. But I wasn’t too confident yet, so I didn’t go too far. I only rode halfway up the street, did a shaky turn and headed for home. Unfortunately, the ride home was on a shallow downhill slope. I gathered speed. Too much speed, to my mind. Too fast to apply my brakes. And the seat was too high to do anything but put the tip of my toe on the ground. So I wasn’t going to stop that way, either. I panicked. I locked up. And crashed into a parked car, the only one on the street.