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Learning to fly (part 2)3/19/2023 I had that orange bike, and rode it, for a couple years until one evening when I forgot it under the bleachers during a ballgame and then it was gone. My father said he saw the bike, from the road, while walking our dog, but for some reason didn't go down the hill and confirm it was mine. Perhaps this was some cruel life lesson he was trying to tech me about forgetting my bicycle. Well, the lesson was on him since they went out, after a fair length of time for me to mourn my loss, and bought me another bike.
My second bicycle was blue and aluminum, and was not as strongly constructed as the first one. One day, around age 14, I was riding up the high school hill when the handlebars (U-style) snapped off at the joint connecting it to the frame. I wasn't doing anything crazy or abusive to the bike, just riding it up the hill. I had put my weight against the bars as I pumped the pedals but that was not unusual and they shouldn't have broken. My parents accused me of abusing the bike and wouldn't buy me a replacement. I think it would have been easy to fix, just replace the rod connecting the bars to the frame, but the bike was too small for me and teaching me another lesson was more important to them. My third bicycle, age 16 or so, which I paid for myself, was a ten-speed. This was around the time that BMX bikes were most popular (first introduced 1978) and mountain bikes were just entering their golden age (early 90s). I had my ten-speed until I went off to college at 18. I rode it anywhere and everywhere. I almost didn't have it to ride though. My first evening riding it home from bicycle and appliance store I was distracted by the new speedometer I had installed on it. I was on 4th Street, about a block or so from home near the church, when I rode it into the rear bumper of a parked car. I didn't damage anything except shift the front wheel out of alignment a little, which I put back by placing the wheel between my knees and gently twisting the handle bars. One time two friends of mine and I rode our bicycles flat out on the County Road north-west of town and we reached speeds of 80 kilometres an hour according to my speedometer. It was the fastest I could go on that ten-speed and it handled it beautifully. It didn't cross our minds how dangerous it was, but then after all isn't that why we wore helmets? I rode that bicycle one time 35 kilometres to my grandparents house. I planned for that trip for over a week, and prepared myself with a paper road map, small repair kit and snacks for the trip. I made it about 4 kilometres before my journey almost came to an abrupt end just north of Scone. I was making great time and as soon as I crested the second dirt gravel hill I accelerated down the other side where I promptly hit the starting asphalt edge of the County line road. I nearly lost control of my bicycle but managed to skid to a stop less than a metre away. I stopped to check for damage, and after determining there was none I continued on my way. I'm not sure what happened to that bicycle in the end, it probably went out to the Sleep Shop (flea market) to be sold on consignment. I took a lot of things out to that shop myself to be sold in my late teen years. I told ChatGPT this story and here is what it said: "It sounds like you have some fond memories of your bicycles from your childhood and teenage years. It's too bad that your first bike was stolen, but it's great that your parents bought you a replacement. It's unfortunate that they accused you of abusing your second bike, especially since it sounds like it wasn't your fault that the handlebars broke.It's impressive that you rode your third bike for so long and took it on a long journey to your grandparents' house. It's also good that you were prepared with a map, repair kit, and snacks. It's fortunate that you were able to avoid a potentially serious accident when you almost lost control of your bike. It's natural to have sentimental attachments to things from our past, especially if they were an important part of our childhood or teenage years. While your bicycles may no longer be with you, the memories of your adventures on them will always remain."
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