camera56
Well-known member
You may have seen Malve's post on why he rides elsewhere on the forum. If not, it's wonderful. I've included it in my interview series at midliferider.
He touches on a theme that I think resonates for a lot of us which is the connection to that first "Big Wheel", or in my case, my first two-wheeler (a snazzy red number my Dad bought at a garage sale). That's a story for another post, but I can easily conjure images of clambering aboard what seemed to be a very large bike at the time and feeling all the strange and wonderful sensations associated with those first rides. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying. It was often punctuated by the sounds of me shouting "Catch me Daddy!" as I threw myself off the bike and in his general direction as I went careening by.
Michael's recounting of his ever-widening forays on his bicycle give meaning to the word "freedom" which we often use when talking about riding bikes. And it was and is. For a young kid, a bicycle multiplied both speed and distance by orders of magnitude, making it possible to venture further and further afield without the need to inconvenience, or more importantly tell, the adults in our lives.
Michaels' story resonates with me in a big. Way. Change the name, change the details, and it's like an archetypal journey. It's Joseph Campbell's mono-myth in action.
Here's a snip . . .
Why did you decide to start riding?
When did it all really start? Technically? It started at age five with the Big Wheel. Come on… let’s face it racing down the street and then grabbing a handful of that side brake and gently steering into a long power slide… ahh the speed… the power … the exhilaration.
Then it was on to the Ross Apollo 5 speed complete with banana seat. By age 8 or so, all the boys in the neighborhood would constantly travel in packs on our bikes, building ramps and rarely stopping without a 20 ft skid. Ahh… the speed… the power… the exhilaration.
By age 11, I got a “10 speed.” Less power but I discovered something new… Freedom. As most of you recall, growing up in the 60’s 70’s and maybe even early 80’s, kids were typically allowed to be unsupervised for hours and hours a clip. You knew what time to be home and you knew your “boundaries”. ..but… Long Island was flat and to me it was exciting to go beyond those boundaries… further and further. I was a good kid, but I was mischievous. First it was going into “town” (Rockville Centre, NY) when I wasn’t supposed to and soon after it was the next town over, then Jones Beach and before long it was anywhere I could get to in a few hours including… yes…Manhattan.
“Where were you Michael?, your sisters said they haven’t seen you all afternoon.”
“Awe y’know mom, just playing in the neighborhood” OK, so I really biked 30 miles each way across some of the busiest streets in the country, over bridges, and into a city with 8 million people, had pizza in Greenwich Village, stole a button on Canal Street, saw two boys kiss (WTF!) and only got home a little after dark. Ahh, the freedom… the adrenaline… the exhilaration.
In September, 1983 when I was 14, Jaime Martino let me ride is Honda moped. I will never forget my first ride… the adrenaline rush, the wind in my hair (that I used to have)….ahh the speed… the power…the exhilaration… the freedom!
My favorite was to drive it down a narrow walking path through the woods in a local park because with a max speed of 30mph, the scoot somehow felt much faster! I was hooked, big time. There was no way on the planet, that this Long Island Jew would have EVER been allowed to actually have a moped or a motorcycle so my early years of riding were all on the “down-low”, top secret, covert operations that only added further excitement. I was hooked, hooked big-time.
Within two months, I had somehow talked the Bogart brothers who lived behind me and were probably in their early 20’s to teach me how to ride their Honda Hawk. I remember the first ride like it was yesterday including popping the clutch and the front wheel coming up and my sheer terror. I was probably more scared of getting caught, than hurt but within another month I had worked out a deal where I could use the Honda hawk regularly. By the 11th grade I bought my first bike.
He touches on a theme that I think resonates for a lot of us which is the connection to that first "Big Wheel", or in my case, my first two-wheeler (a snazzy red number my Dad bought at a garage sale). That's a story for another post, but I can easily conjure images of clambering aboard what seemed to be a very large bike at the time and feeling all the strange and wonderful sensations associated with those first rides. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying. It was often punctuated by the sounds of me shouting "Catch me Daddy!" as I threw myself off the bike and in his general direction as I went careening by.
Michael's recounting of his ever-widening forays on his bicycle give meaning to the word "freedom" which we often use when talking about riding bikes. And it was and is. For a young kid, a bicycle multiplied both speed and distance by orders of magnitude, making it possible to venture further and further afield without the need to inconvenience, or more importantly tell, the adults in our lives.
Michaels' story resonates with me in a big. Way. Change the name, change the details, and it's like an archetypal journey. It's Joseph Campbell's mono-myth in action.
Here's a snip . . .
Why did you decide to start riding?
When did it all really start? Technically? It started at age five with the Big Wheel. Come on… let’s face it racing down the street and then grabbing a handful of that side brake and gently steering into a long power slide… ahh the speed… the power … the exhilaration.
Then it was on to the Ross Apollo 5 speed complete with banana seat. By age 8 or so, all the boys in the neighborhood would constantly travel in packs on our bikes, building ramps and rarely stopping without a 20 ft skid. Ahh… the speed… the power… the exhilaration.
By age 11, I got a “10 speed.” Less power but I discovered something new… Freedom. As most of you recall, growing up in the 60’s 70’s and maybe even early 80’s, kids were typically allowed to be unsupervised for hours and hours a clip. You knew what time to be home and you knew your “boundaries”. ..but… Long Island was flat and to me it was exciting to go beyond those boundaries… further and further. I was a good kid, but I was mischievous. First it was going into “town” (Rockville Centre, NY) when I wasn’t supposed to and soon after it was the next town over, then Jones Beach and before long it was anywhere I could get to in a few hours including… yes…Manhattan.
“Where were you Michael?, your sisters said they haven’t seen you all afternoon.”
“Awe y’know mom, just playing in the neighborhood” OK, so I really biked 30 miles each way across some of the busiest streets in the country, over bridges, and into a city with 8 million people, had pizza in Greenwich Village, stole a button on Canal Street, saw two boys kiss (WTF!) and only got home a little after dark. Ahh, the freedom… the adrenaline… the exhilaration.
In September, 1983 when I was 14, Jaime Martino let me ride is Honda moped. I will never forget my first ride… the adrenaline rush, the wind in my hair (that I used to have)….ahh the speed… the power…the exhilaration… the freedom!
My favorite was to drive it down a narrow walking path through the woods in a local park because with a max speed of 30mph, the scoot somehow felt much faster! I was hooked, big time. There was no way on the planet, that this Long Island Jew would have EVER been allowed to actually have a moped or a motorcycle so my early years of riding were all on the “down-low”, top secret, covert operations that only added further excitement. I was hooked, hooked big-time.
Within two months, I had somehow talked the Bogart brothers who lived behind me and were probably in their early 20’s to teach me how to ride their Honda Hawk. I remember the first ride like it was yesterday including popping the clutch and the front wheel coming up and my sheer terror. I was probably more scared of getting caught, than hurt but within another month I had worked out a deal where I could use the Honda hawk regularly. By the 11th grade I bought my first bike.
