Remembering My Old Schwinn
I learned to ride a bike in Grinnell, Iowa. Our sidewalk was buckled from tree roots, but by the time I was 6 I was flying down Summer Street. Barefoot and helmet-less, I pretended my little Schwinn was a pony! Best of all, I liked bike-riding with friends.
I recently got to relive those carefree bicycle days with my friend Kim, in Florida. The quiet neighborhood was car-less and our heads were helmet-less. I pedaled with my flip-flops and squealed at my own wobbly steering. (I blame that on my heavy camera bag in the basket) We laughed our way to the beach for sunset and laughed some more when we had a little bike mishap, which ended with a skinned elbow. I'm not telling more.
A bike celebration! A perfect way to remember being 6!