Hey, come back here!

My second greatest moment on a bike was one of my first…

#2  I stole my brother’s Webco.

All I can remember about my first bike is that it was a yellow Schwinn with training wheels.  Like my clothes, toys and everything else I owned at that age, the bike was a hand-me-down.  I think it belonged to both my brothers before me.   

Most kids get their training wheels taken off when their parents decide it’s time, and more likely, when dad gets around to it.  It didn’t work that way for me.  One day my brother just decided for them.  He put me on his Webco BMX bike and held me up.  Knowing him, he probably took his hand away and let me ride on my own long before I ever realized I was doing it.  Our dad was there, sitting on the tailgate of our car; he obviously didn’t disapprove.   

Surely I fell, scraped my knee, screamed bloody murder, cried, sucked it up and tried again.  But I don’t remember any of that.  I only remember the one that counts.  This is how it happened. 

My brother let go of the bike again, only this time I didn’t fall.  I wobbled back and forth but I eventually found my balance.  “He’s doing it” he yelled.  I looked back to see that my brother had indeed let go of the bike.  I saw that he and my father were smiling at me.   I realized that I was really riding a two-wheeler.  The freedom of cycling surged through my little body and I pedaled down the street.   I didn’t ever want to stop. 

My brother must have known because he hollered back at me “hey, come back here.”  He didn’t want me stealing his bike.  He should have known better, but it was too late.  I started riding his bike all the time.  He must have complained to our parents because a few days later they bought me a shiny new black and gold Huffy. 

The obsession had begun.