One of the best things about riding a bike is that for a few lovely minutes, I am 11 years-old again. Oh, not the gawky, awkward, self-conscious 11 year-old. But the freckly-faced 11 year-old that received a slightly used blue and silver one-speed, coaster brake equipped beauty for my birthday. The 11 year-old who was terrified to ride down the Pine Street hill, but could ride up the same hill - no problem. I feel the breeze in my hair, I remember riding “no hands” and learning to peddle like crazy so that for a few glorious minutes I could put my feet up on the handlebar. That first taste of freedom that a bicycle brought. The first taste of what it might be like to be “grown up” and able to go where I wanted, independently, and f-a-s-t.
It’s only a lovely few minutes, though. Then my _ _ - something body reminds me that there isn’t much fear of how fast I can manage to go downhill, it’s fear of just how slow I might go uphill! But, still…for those minutes, it’s the summertime of youth, and I hear a popsicle calling my name.
Why did the summer days of childhood never seem as hot? I don’t remember ever thinking that it was too hot to ride my bike, go down to the park for crafts and activities, or play with neighborhood friends. I don’t recall heat as an excuse to avoid the 1+ mile walk from home to the nearest city swimming pool. I remember eating supper in the basement, because it was the coolest spot in the house, and watching the water bead up on metal glasses holding icy cold tea.
Summer was clean sheets that smelled like sunshine, Noxzema on sunburned shoulders, a trip to the zoo, Sunday picnics, and my brothers digging a hole to China in the backyard.
Is summer still summer? Have I changed or has the taste of summer changed? Or is it the pace of summer that has changed? I don’t know. But for today, I only need Lil’ Red and a few minutes on the road to take me back. Back home.
3 comments:
You guys had noxema way back then??? I thought that it was a modern invention. Nice relection on summertime. It really isn't what it was as a child.
Your posting brought back memories. Yes, I agree, that Pine St hill was steep... I preferred going down the dead-end street. And eating in the basement was fun. Cool. Nobody complained. It just what we did.
What I find interesting is that as a child, what you experience is what you think everyone else is experiencing. Didn't everybody eat in their basement? Didn't everybody use Noxema? As I have grown older I have realized that the answer is definitely "no".
Your posting is a reminder to enjoy what I have today. I think in 30 years I will look back on my mid-life years with fondness (just as I now think about my teenage years). I need to appreciate how much I have. Hard to believe life will get better. My knees and back don't hurt, my mind and eyes still work, and I can still beat the kids in H-O-R-S-E.
- Tom
Unfortunately, my kids won't have the wonderful experience of 'bicycle freedom' because of the overused cut through our neighborhood road has become.
Remember hearing the sound of the ice cream truck on it's way and the thrill of running in your house to get money, afraid you might miss getting a rocket pop? Ah, those were the days!
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