Bicycle

Oh my. There are two bikes I distinctly remember from my childhood. Both were blue, but one involved a banana seat and the other was a ten-speed. The light blue one with yellow trim and the banana seat was the learning tool. I can remember my Dad running along behind with a grip on the seat as I learned to balance and ride. The deeper blue ten-speed Schwinn came along much later, and I still have no clue what my parents sacrificed to provide that gift. I rode that bike all over. I criss-crossed our area for years at cruising speeds some days and racing speeds on others. Eventually, the two-wheeled transportation was put aside in the garage as I grew older.
Yesterday, I picked up a silver bike from a friend who was storing rather than using it. Upon hearing that I was considering the purchase of just such a bike, she immediately offered her scarcely used two-wheeler. I was wearing a dress when I stopped by to pick it up, but I hopped on to roll out of the driveway on a test-ride despite my flapping skirt. As I went about the rest of my schedule for the day, I would allow my thoughts to skip back to my few minutes on the bike periodically with a sense of anticipation.
Five hours later, I changed into shorts and sailed right out of the driveway and off down the street. I waved at Mr. Art as I shot past his house. (I think he laughed. He doesn't do that often these days.) Don was waiting out front as I came to a stop and parked suggesting he give the bike a whirl. Don rode back and forth n our street a time or two while I spent a few minutes with our neighbor in conversation about our first bikes and how we learned to ride back in the day. (His "day" was probably 30 or 40 years earlier than mine, and I had training wheels available while he did not. We both had Daddies running behind us and shouting.) Much of the afternoon was spent racing along with the kids as we all rode around the neighborhood.
I am rediscovering my old love of cruising around on two wheels. It's reminiscent of that sense of freedom that I found as I pedaled furiously along down my childhood street on a bike, and that same sense that I felt again a decade later as I sat behind the wheel of my Dad's car.