Showing posts with label cycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cycling. Show all posts

Sunday, October 25, 2026



Trail around the dam where I bike. Photo by author.

Do you remember learning to ride a bike?



The boy straddled his big bike, barely balancing himself on his toes. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk looking straight ahead, frozen in his insecurity. That uneasy feeling, a cousin of doubt, which comes before confidence.

    He wore a serious-looking helmet, probably having outgrown the green spiky dragon helmets, which appealed to kids of a certain age.

    I had stepped into the street to give the beginning biker some space. However, his parents hovered, giving him conflicting instructions. His mother said, “Walk with it.” While his father said, “Now run with it. Run.” 

    Instead, this bike rider lifted his feet, letting the wheels move him, neither walking nor running, but rolling, which drew shouts of encouragement like, “Keep going!”

    Now, I felt the urge to coach my neighbor. But I did not, fearful of distracting him from his mission.

    I wanted for him was to learn to love biking as much as I do today. My plan is to keep on pedaling for as long as I can. My two-wheeled adventures began when I was a fearless tike on a tricycle. 

    The Creative Nonfiction Podcast with Brendan O'Meara chose one of my cycling essays, “In Tandem," to feature on its digital magazine CODES. I'm happy to be featured with this group of essayists. My reading starts about 38:00 minutes into the program and lasts about 15 minutes. I enjoyed each of these pieces for their storytelling ability. Lindsay Street's "There will Always be Horses," especially touched me.  

The podcast is available on Spotify and Apple. Here's the link to Apple Music.  https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/issue-4-codes/id541967932?i=1000793662604

If you don't have access and want to read the essay at some point, let me know. 

Music notes 

I'm listening to Halloween is My Christmastime  whose clever lyrics make me smile. It's performed by Glenn Page & the Always October Orchestra.  Glenn's "spooky swagger" as the reviewer calls it makes this a treat, not a trick. The band really swings it too. Read the review and give a listen to my friend Glenn's song. 

 



Trail around the dam where I bike. Photo by author. Do you remember learning to ride a bike? The boy straddled his big bike, barely balancin...