I started riding bikes when I was 4 or 5, and I am not even sure I had training wheels. Everyday I would get up in the morning and go outside to ride. I would ride circles in the driveway and around the house as I got better, I would ride down to the barnyard. About that time was when Evil Kenevil was big and everyone wanted to be Evil. So, being the ever brave 7 or 8 yr old, we did what we could to be our own version of Evil. Boards and bricks was all it took to get over our version of Snake River Canyon. That and a ratty old broken up sidewalk as your runway. Granted our distances were far less and the risk wasn't quite up to Evils standard, but a couple of feet of air at 7 or 8 years old became a hundred when we told the story.
I was allowed to ride my bike to my friend Donny's house. It was almost two miles exactly. With two STEEP hills on the way. The road was gravel. We were on dirt bikes, with no gears, no helmets no pads. Were our parents cracked? Or did they just want us out of the house that bad? Doesn't matter. It was clear, my bike was my ticket to freedom.
I rode the tires off of my dirt bike. Literally. As a teenager, I still liked biking, but I needed more. 9 more gears to be exact. I wanted, No, I needed a 10 speed.
I had ridden 10 speed bikes before, but I finally bought my first 10 speed bike at a local garage sale. Man, I was in heaven but my accident rate increased. It took a lot of practice to get used to the two shifters and two hand brakes. Plus I had to get used to not having a coaster brake (pushing the pedals backwards to stop). With all the gears, I started riding in bike-a-thons and hospital charity rides. Again, I wanted more and I found it in another garage sale. This time in Denver, CO. I found a Fuji SJ10 in a garage sale. I begged my parents to let me get this. I had the money ($60) but we had to haul it back to Iowa, so I needed permission. Permission granted. As I look back on this trip, I spent my time riding from my Grandpa's house in Wheatridge across Wadsworth to the local park that had a bike path. Now, if you are familiar with Denver, you know about Wadsworth. It is a major thoroughfare through the city. I was 12 and riding in Denver by myself. Freedom.
A few years later, I was still riding that Fuji when I got the opportunity to ride along the Mississippi river. We were members of the Methodist church in Villisca and there was a summer camp that was 5 days of bike riding in eastern Iowa. The route roughly following the Mississippi river. Days were spent on the bike, nights were spent in church basements along the way, food was provided by the local congregations. More freedom.
As I continued through high school, I still loved bicycles. My attention even turned to the Tour de France. In the late 80's a young American named Greg LeMond was making a name for himself and for USA cycling in general. He was winning. No American had ever won the TdF before him, in fact the first American team to be invited didn't happen until 1984. I was so enamoured by the idea of professional cycling that I even took french in school. That didn't go as well as I had hoped. Apparently, I did not grasp the concept of foreign language as much as I had hoped. So much for riding in France (it never occurred to me that most professional riders were 50 lbs lighter and 5 inches shorter than me).
At one point, I was considering buying a "nice" bike. I don't remember the brand but I remember that it was going to cost me over $1000. A family member thought that it was impractical and that I was just dreaming. A car was a much better investment for me, as they said. I couldn't argue the practicality of a car over a bike and I bought my first car for $1100. It was about then that I started to lose my desire to ride. A car, a job, high school sports and a girlfriend all took my time. My bike got pushed to the back of the garage and was left there.
Flash forward 15 years or so.
I got back into cycling very slowly. I bought a mountain bike that I rode occasionally but never off road. Then a few years ago, a guy at work wanted to go mountain biking. Apparently there was a trail near our office. Why not. About 4 of us went that first time. I was hooked (for the 2nd time). From there, I started looking, dreaming and scheming of ways to get new bike stuff. Pedals, shoes, shorts, then onto newer better bikes. It can be an endless trail when you pursue the latest and greatest "thing". I started thinking about what I wanted to ride and how I ride and bought smart. I now have 2 great bikes, a Salsa El Mariachi mountain bike and a Jamis Quest road bike. Both frames are made of steel (not very common today) and have great components on them.
Now I ride 2, 3 sometimes 4 times a week. Especially now that I don't have family with me. I can come home from work and go for a ride without worrying about family responsibilities. Although I am riding more, it is at the cost of not having my family with me. It seems like nothing to go out after work and ride 15, 20 or 25 miles on the trail system here in Tulsa.
One other thing I forgot to mention about cycling. It's therapeutic. I don't think about work, I don't worry about my family, it's just me and my bike. It is my time. It's freedom from my responsibilities, if only for a short while.
If you haven't ridden a bike in a while, go out and try it. I bet you'd be surprised at how big the grin on your face is and what memories will pop into your head as you turn the pedals....
One other thing I forgot to mention about cycling. It's therapeutic. I don't think about work, I don't worry about my family, it's just me and my bike. It is my time. It's freedom from my responsibilities, if only for a short while.
If you haven't ridden a bike in a while, go out and try it. I bet you'd be surprised at how big the grin on your face is and what memories will pop into your head as you turn the pedals....
