When I was growing up, I loved having a bicycle. It offered freedom and adventure. I would ride my bike to friends’ houses and as necessary transportation. Back in the day, we didn’t wear helmets. I was responsible in that my bike was registered with the city and it had a license sticker on the frame.
Generally speaking, I was a careful driver. I rode on the right-hand side of the road (not on the sidewalk) and used hand signals when I was turning.
But there was this one time when I wasn’t as careful as I should have been…and I suffered the consequences. Continue reading
I think I had three two-wheeled bikes over my childhood. The first one was my least memorable. It was painted a rusty color and had a triangle-shaped kickstand on the back wheel. I disliked this bike from the day it arrived and I begged mom and dad for a new bike. The tires kept going flat and it was very hard to steer.
