“The Day I Learned to Ride “Real Roads”
When I was 7 I got a big red bike. It was a Schwinn with strange ramhorn handlebars. I rode it in loops around the house and yard. Then I heard about “real riding” and started looking out the window of the bus at the real roads and cars on the way to school. Finally I figured it out.
Soon, I said to my pals “Let’s go someplace for real!” We rode down our dirt road to the nearest paved one…it had yellow lines…it went somewhere…we were in exotic territory.
Well, here goes, I remember thinking. It’s scary, but if we obey the rules, we’ll be safe.
I led the way onto the busy country highway and started pedaling. Hmmm, things sure are different once you actually do it, I thought, but what a thrill! It’s so much faster than the dirt! I was surprised at how narrow a space we had to ride in, but we wanted to be good riders and tried our best to ride steady. My brother and neighbor were following close behind me, saying nothing, probably concentrating hard just like me.
…We were out there riding between the two solid yellow lines in the center of the road!
Cars honked at us and swerved. We tried to ride even steadier…gotta do this right! I was baffled when one of the yellow lines disappeared. Then there were only dashed lines. Connect the dots, I thought, and tried to ride straight even when there wasn’t a line to ride on. Tricky! Honk! Whoosh!
We did it for a mile maybe, then gave up, wigged out and exhausted, and rode home on the shoulder. We had a summary pow-wow as we struggled home, nerves shaken and panting, in the gravel. “It sure was fast riding on that pavement, wasn’t it guys?
But, man, it was tricky doing it right!” –If our parents only knew.
I must’ve got the center-riding idea from seeing a cyclist in a left-turn lane from the bus window. I don’t remember when we learned the real rules. JP
> said yes, but I think they imagined us peddling safe little circles on > the driveway. If they had any idea how far away we went, and _where_ we > went, they would have been horified.
We got a mile away, thru the hood and across a big road and down the service road to the dump on our tricycles once.
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At 13 I rode a daytour with the Boy’s Brigade group. Leader had done Wandering Wheels across the US. I was in awe. He said I rode well.
First sports compliment from an unbiased role model. I then thought that cycling was the first worthwhile sport I’d ever done and began scheming how to get a real bike (it seemed to have a point plus freedom…teams and rules: UGH!).
A neighbor also had ridden around the perimeter of the US.
He wasn’t talkative about it, but it captured my imagination. My first solo weekend tour with pals at 14 included my inventing a SAIL, having fast success, then getting pitched and punctured (arm). Then a month unsupported with younger pals at age 17 and I was a goner for bikes and adventure….
