I’ve spent the last week reading The Daring Book for Girls for the Mother Talk blog tour. In the book, the authors, Andrea J. Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz, have included tons of games and activities and trivia for girls that don’t include plopping your butt in front of a television or computer screen. As I read through the book, memories from childhood started flooding in to my brain. Why didn’t I read this book in November when I was in need of ideas for NaBloPoMo? I would of had tons of childhood stories to entertain you with.

As I read the section on forts, it brought me back to when my friend, Cammie, and I used to make big, complicated [at least they seemed complicated when I was 12 years old] snow forts when we were in junior high. And I was all set to tell you about it. But I already did.

So instead let’s talk about the first time I learned to ride my bike.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit I was in junior high before I learned to ride my bike. Most kids learn to ride a bike by the time they’re six years old. I was twice that age.

My friend (Cammie, again) knew how to ride her bike. She could ride circles around me. I couldn’t even get two feet without falling down and scraping my knee. But I was determined to ride my bike as well as she could.

So one day my dad took me out to teach me how to ride. He had tried several times in the past, but I wasn’t truly ready any of those times. This day I was finally ready.

He took me to the top of the hill in our apartment complex. I got on the bike. Took a few deep breaths. And then he let go. I flew down that hill with the wind whipping through my long hair. I had my feet firmly planted on pedals and I was pumping them up and down. I thought I was finally riding a bike. All on my own.

But as I got to the bottom of the hill I realized I was sadly mistaken. I was so not riding that bike on my own. It was just gravity keeping me moving. And a small miracle that I was staying upright.

At the bottom of the hill was a fork in the road. If you went to the right you would go in to the parking lot of the apartments. If you went to the left you would go in to the garage area. I went straight.

Straight took me right in to a big wooden fence. A splintery wooden fence. Especially when you plow in to it on a bike. I slammed in to that fence, flew off my bike and landed in the grass on the other side.

That was enough of a lesson for one day.

Eventually I got over the whole fence incident and got back on my bike. This time my dad kept me on level ground. And I finally figured out how to stay upright and pedal at the same time. Within months I had it down pat. I even attempted that hill again. And this time I steered clear of the fence.

Go read my review of The Daring Book for Girls and then rush to Amazon to get your own copy.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, December 5th, 2007 at 12:07 am and is filed under Misty watercolor memories. Comments are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.