Bicycling

My little girl won't ride a bicycle!  (I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt, "won't" instead of "can't", but I'm really not certain.)

I love bicycling! When I was her age (who thought I'd ever say that phrase) my bike was my road to the world. I took off and took long trips all around town (Ann Arbor), miles farther than my mother knew I was going. I needed a map, because I knew nothing about how to get around. But I loved the freedom, the exploration, having a destination. The way I felt then about the bike is the way I have felt in turn about flying small planes, voyaging in sail boats, paddling in the kayak, even taking long urban hikes. I like the autonomy of not having a firm destination, being able to just wander, explore the byways, stop when I want, go home when I want. My little girl has never experienced that at all.

Her oldest brother did, I know for sure. The first summer the boys spent in Bellport they both learned to ride bikes and were up and out often. There was a cul de sac they could ride to, just two blocks away, and A. did constantly. He spoke of the freedom, and how on the bike he was flying. His horizons got a lot bigger from that.

The younger boy needs to feel useful. Not for him a useless trip around a circle. But Grandma needs something from the store in the village? He was the man for that. Hop on the bike, list in hand, pick up the bread or milk or cheese, tell the cashier to charge it to Grandma, and off back home with mission accomplished and a sense of purpose fulfilled.  He got a whiz-bang new bike for his birthday last year, and he and his friends quickly expanded their horizons, riding to a small amusement park nearby or to the zoo.

Through college and grad school years, the bike was my main form of longer distance transportation. I had fat tired used bikes from the police sale with saddle bags in back. Only when I was a young professional living in the Chicago suburbs did I get a bike with gears. The first time I rode my bike off the road and on a bike trail I was astounded at how much fun it could be, and it became a more regular form of exercise and recreation for me.  When I moved here to Maryland, I was entranced with the relatively flat and level bike trails along the streams (I have never enjoyed hills). I have a stream trail just a hundred yards from my house, nine miles in either direction and connecting to additional trails at either end. During the Big Loss of 1998, I generally rode my bike for hours on Sunday morning.

Sadly for me, when I got a new bike a couple of years ago and started back up again, the knees objected every time I went more than about five miles (and five miles is truly nothing on a bike). According to the knee doctor, I probably could build up my tolerance for riding with time on the stationary bike, enough to allow me to do more serious street riding. I haven't bothered to try because I find the stationary bike the most boring and least challenging aerobic machine I've been on.

But tonight I got out my bike to try to get my girl up on it, just to give it another try. She refused so we have more persuasion to do. I had to give the bike a whirl around the block after I pumped the tires, just to make sure it still worked. I liked it. I liked it a lot. So I'm going to be trying it again, perhaps around town for errands first before a long trail ride.