Riding a bike as a kid
A bike brought a simultaneous sense of independence
Tim Wilson
Nothing changed my existence as a kid or made me feel more accomplished than learning to ride a bike.
It was evolutionary.
I wasn’t one of those kids who just jumped on and pedaled. Learning to ride involved more than a few spills. But I remember being so amazed that once I got it, I never looked back. There’s a reason they compare anything that you learn to do and never forget how to do is “like riding a bike.”
A bike brought a simultaneous sense of independence and belonging when you and your buddies got together just to ride around. For some it was almost a religious experience, at least on those Sundays when they skipped out of going to Mass at the local parish but instead let the spirit move them at what they referred to with a smirk as “St. Ride-a-Around.”
It was amazing what we could transport by bike, from baseball gloves and bats to basketballs, hockey sticks and even street hockey nets – no lie, we did it all the time. Of course, what we transported more than anything else was friends. A Stingray with butterfly handlebars and a banana seat could easily carry three kids – one on the bars, one standing while he pedaled and a third in the seat.
I’m sure you remember the two best methods for making your bike sound like a motorcycle or at least a minibike. I preferred a baseball card attached to the fork with a clothes pin and slapping against the spokes as you rolled. Others went with a small balloon tied on so that it rubbed on the spokes. I always felt the balloon approach sounded more like you overdosed on beans.
A bike was the first possession that at some point challenged you to test your mechanical aptitude. It may have been simple as changing a flat or getting a chain back on, but it was a big part of learning to take care of something yourself.
Plenty of people left their bikes behind as they entered adulthood. Full disclosure: I’ve joyfully clung to the childhood pleasure of jumping in the saddle and turning the pedals to explore new places and see how far and fast I could go. It’s been said many times before, and I’ll never tire of repeating it. You don’t stop riding a bike because you get old. You get old because you stop riding a bike.
About the author: Tim Wilson is a lifelong resident of Massachusetts. He is passionate about his family, Marquette University, bicycling and all Boston sports.
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