Stories Collected While Living in France

French la Vie

Giveaway

 

Tour de france lone rider

 

Okay so you liked the little turn of the century toy bikes as much as I did.

They were cute weren't they! They certainly added a bit of humor to French Husband's Tour de France faux pas!

I am giving the one above away. If you would like a chance at having it you need to leave a comment in the comment section below.

Tell me how you learned how to ride a bike? Or a bicycle story.

I'll randomly pick a winner tomorrow.

Meanwhile I am setting up shop and packing items purchased, thanks again for supporting my Brocante Bug.

Note:

Toy bicycle is made of metal (above) and was part of a set much like 'toy soldier's. Toy soldiers are easier to find. The toy bicycle is nearly a hundred years old. It has been around the block a few times, a well loved little toy. This one is wearing the 'treasured' Green Jersey.

 

 

Comments

128 responses to “Giveaway”

  1. LibbyWNZ

    My bicycle story is very recent – as in May this year. I had taken a fancy to the Electra brand of bike – very expensive in New Zealand but as we were to be visiting family in the States in May why not look for a 2nd hand one there? Did exactly that and found a gorgeous apple green one , barely used for a great price. However due to a miscommunication at the airport it ended up costing us nearly as much as I paid for it as it was to get it home….. and it ( along with our luggage)came home via Australia as we got separated at San Francisco!!! However I looove my new bike & worth every penny!!!

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  2. Kelly

    I do so love that little green man atop his bicycle – it reminds me of my own “Dutch” man, for whom I relocated to Holland from Minnesota. I recall when we’d first fallen in love, it was torturous to part for only a weekend while he holidayed in France and biked the Mont Ventoux.
    …I’m delighted you’re offering such a treat. Those “tour” photos of yours are perhaps my favorite thus far, might you consider offering prints?
    Groetjes uit Nederland, Kelly

    Reply
  3. Zosia

    My dad thought me to ride a bike. He attached a wooden pole at the back of the bike, between the pipe that holds the seat and the back wheel and was holding it while I was learning to ride. There was a park behind our house with nice long alleys for walking or riding a bike. One day, after I practiced for a while, we went there. My dad, as usual was holding the wooden pole so I felt safe and was riding confidently. I was riding for a while and then I said something to my dad, along the lines “I like riding a bike”, but there was no answer, so I turned and my dad was not there, I was riding by myself. He was standing in a distance waving and laughing.

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  4. Kelleyn

    I was about 7 years old. We lived in lake tahoe at the time. My mom did not want me to learn how to ride because she was afraid I would get hurt. So while she was at work I would sneak over to the neighbor and borrow their bike. By the tome I got caught it was to late I could ride.

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  5. Marie-Noëlle

    All I can remember is a bright red bicycle, my mum or my dad running behind me … Many falls. Many wounds. Little blood. Flood of tears. Tiny stones taken away with tweezers. Many plasters. Much encouragement. Much applause.
    My dad had added 2 training wheels. At a time he took one off. The remaining training wheel was left as a “psycho wheel” as it did not help much !
    And of course, THE D-Day when I DID it on 2 wheels !!!
    Really to me it was like winning the Tour de France on the Champs-Elysées Avenue !!!

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  6. Linda C.

    I remember pleading with my mother to let me go out and ride my older sister’s bike. Finally, “Yes you can, but don’t be long and don’t tell her”.
    Delighted I rode down to the park. Watched all the big boys yahooing and dare-devilling up and down a little hill.
    I wanted to be adventurous. I wanted to have fun. So, I did it. Pushed the bike up the hill…and, like Jack and Jill, I came tumbling down.
    Broke the bike, broke my arm…can’t remember what my sister said though!

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  7. Sylvia Masse

    When we were just married, me and my husband went for a Tour de Bintan (an island off Singapore)so i was so eagle to prove him that i was as good as those Mamie in France but fell flat and got a big scare which i still carry till today 🙂

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  8. Nance

    Having many brothers you will understand when your Mom assigns your brother the task of teaching his younger sister to ride….
    Jack was 4 years older and since there were no girls living anywhere near my family….I tagged around in the summer with Jack and his friends…not always welcome!
    My mother believed in only buying once…so my bike was way too big for me, as she wanted it to ‘last’.
    Jack was not just ‘given’ the task…he was ‘paid’ and since we spent our summer days taking thrown out soda bottles to the service station for candy money…he was not going to turn down an opportunity for money.
    After a very few tries at walking beside me( no training wheels)…he just sat on a hill beside the slightly traveled road…and with that older brother tone…told me to ride.
    I somehow figured it out…as I never wanted to be a cry-baby around my brother.
    He still got the money!

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  9. dana sparkle

    my dad took me to buy my 1st racing bike with the curling handle bars. i loved riding that bike as a kid. he died a few years later but its one of my favourite memories with him. i can’t wait to take my kids to buy their 1st racers. i don’t ride anymore. but my french husband & i share a love of “the tour”. living in Adelaide we are lucky to see the peloton pass near our house as it does near yours.
    i wrote about my crush here:
    http://danasparkle.blogspot.com/2011/07/little-bit-of-crush.html
    lots of love
    *

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  10. Kathy

    Back in the day when a kid could hop on a bike and pedal anywhere (without fear) my bike and I went on many an adventure. My bike had foot brakes. My friend had a newer, cooler bike with hand brakes. I desperately wanted to ride her bike. Her bike was not clunky and old like mine. I hopped on her cool, new bike and went sailing down the steep hill right out onto the BOULEVARD of rush hour traffic. I slammed the pedals backward to stop, only of course, I didn’t stop. I had angels following me that day and I whizzed right across the two lanes of traffic. I didn’t cause a wreck. I wasn’t hurt. When I hit the grassy parkway the bike fell over and I landed on the ground. A little bruised and battered I walked my friend’s much cooler albeit more dangerous bike back up the steep hill. I handed it to her. Hopped on my old clunker bike and pedaled home. I’ve never, ever had a bike with hand brakes. – Kathy

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  11. Deborah

    My mother thought our street was too dangerous for bkes, so I never really learned the technique. I did try sneaking a lesson or two from my friend – one resulted in crashing through (yes, through) our neighbor’s rickety old garage.
    A few years ago my husband decided I should learn to ride, so we got on an ancient tandem and off we went. Well, not too far off as the chain broke while we were climbing up a hill, the bike pitched over, and we landed in a pig-pile on the side of the road.
    I have “taking bike lessons from the local bike whisperer” on my Bucket List…..Meanwhile I vicariously bike with the Tour de France.

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  12. Jen

    I have no idea how/when I learned to ride a bike (it seems like I’ve always known…) but I would love to win this for my friend Pat who rides 60 miles every weekend and doesn’t watch anything but the Tour for two weeks every summer!

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  13. Leslie Gelber

    I would love a chance at winning this bike for my next door neighbors. At the ate of 71, they are riding tandem across the USA. Starting on the Oregon Coast and finishing in Florida. Taking a total 3 months. They are half way across at this point. She is pushing hard as she needs a hip replacement, but is determined to accomplish this dream ride.
    Thanks for your consideration! I so enjoy reading about your passion for life Corey.
    cheers,
    Leslie

    Reply
  14. Lori DiLoreto

    My Dad taught me to ride a bike and i am still riding to this day at 60. I ride to the beach with my grand daughter with everything packed, hooked, bunge corded on my bike. Funny site for sure.

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  15. Ardi

    I learned to ride a bike (large balloon tires and all) on the road in front of our house. The road was unpaved so it must have been quite a thing to see as my Dad (an accountant not given to much exercise) running along beside the bike trying to keep me from falling over. This was in the days before training wheels! I’ve been a fan of bike racing since I was a young girl and would love to be picked as the new home for your little green jersey racer.

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  16. Rhonda P.

    To think I remember this like it was yesterday….a neighbor’s son, my age, taught me how to ride a bike. His name was Jeff, I remember how afraid I was and he gave me the biggest shove off and away I went. I felt so free….it was amazing.
    To this day, I need a little shove….in the right direction….or to persue my dreams…I give a thanks to all who put that hand on your back and whisper, you can do this.

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  17. Lauren Slavin

    Both my parents would take me to my elementary school grass fields. They would take turn holding the back of my bike seat and keeping me from tipping over as I tried to keep my feet on the pedals. Whoever wasn’t holding the bike would cheer me on from the side. Good memories 🙂

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  18. Marlis

    Oh boy,, thanks for the chance to win, but more thanks for dredging up memories.. Not so sure about how I learned to ride.. but here’s a story for you..
    Both my brother and I got brand new bicycles for Christmas. Mine was gold and certainly a beauty. All was well for a couple of months and then one day, I came home from school and every nut and bolt and screw was taken off the bicycle. The tires lay strewn in the yard, the handlebar was on the porch.. We never did find the chain. My brother, under little adult supervision obviously, had found the tool set and taken it all apart. It took my dad weeks to put it back together. In the meantime, I hid his bike at my friend’s house so he couldn’t ride either! We do still laugh about that one.. so good he was at taking things apart (still is) but can’t put them back together (still can’t)!

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  19. Sandy

    I would love to win the bike racer – I would give him to my own French Husband for his birthday! Although my first bike came from Sears, many years ago, it was made in France. It had the coolest leather saddle and the tires were a reddish color instead of black. I learned to ride it with my Dad holding onto the bike and running along beside.

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  20. Deb L.

    Oh this brings up a very fond memory! I was scared to death to remove the training wheels on my bike. My 82 year old grandmother (who wore pearls every day of her life and never left home without her white gloves – we’re talking the 1950’s folks) hopped on the bike and pedaled around our backyard to show me how easy it was. I finally got on the bike and she ran around holding onto the back of my seat all afternoon. She was the one who was the most influential in encouraging me to be fearless facing any challenge in life. Thank you Nana!!

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  21. mimi

    I remember my first bike like it was yesterday. I had saved all my money from several holiday and birthday gifts. All with a single goal in mind. A shiny new bicycle!
    My neighbor had a bike and she would stroll around the neighborhood. I had to walk.
    Finally, I had saved enough money. My mother brought me to the city to purchase my new bike. Spags was a big discount store known for bargains. As I walked excitedly through the crowded aisles, I saw nothing. There was only one thing on my mind. Nothing else mattered.
    Finally, I came upon the sports section. There she was! A Hot Metallic Pink with U Shaped Handle Bars and a Silver Specked Banana Seat. WOW! WOW! AND WOW!
    I learned that day that good things come to those that wait. Thanks for stirring a great memory on a hot summer day.

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  22. Marilyn

    Oh I wanted a bike so badly, but my mom couldn’t afford one. I had already learned on friends bikes and would watch them longingly wishing and wanting. I finally had saved up my pennies and nickels, then one day I walked by a junk store and there she sat in the yard and she was for sale. I ran home and had just enough to buy her. I grabbed my money jar and ran back to the junk store just down the street from where we lived and bought her. She was a bit rusty, so I lovingly cleaned her and spray painted her blue. She had a basket and I would ride her to the market to shop for my mom. It was love at first sight. Now this isn’t exactly how I learned to ride, but I did have to learn to balance a watermelon in her basket. Oh how I would love to win the little bicycle with the green shirt.

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  23. michelleb.

    Sadly, I don’t remember “learning”. I do remember riding myself and 2 friends on a bike to the community pool during the summer (I was the one who owned a “banana seat” bike). Oh, and I remember the time I fell on the hand-me-down boys bike. That was a learning experience!
    (I do remember the experience of teaching each of my 3 gurlz to ride).

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  24. Nancy

    Our little town of 7,000 just hosted 15,000 bicycle riders from all over the world Sunday night. It’s called RAGBRAI – a bycycle ride across Iowa that is in it’s 39th year. There were people camped everywhere all over town. We hosted eight people in our home–5 were from Seattle and 3 from Iowa. We had never met these people, but had a lovely time getting to know them. They rode 66 miles that day in near 100 degree temperature. Our town prepared for months to host these riders–events, food, camp areas, homes, etc. It was a real treat to have all these bikers in our community.

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  25. Maggie

    My dad taught me to ride my bike. The training wheels came off of the old blue Huffy and he gripped the back of the seat with one hand and held it, running along side of me. All at once, I felt a rush of air as he gave me a final push and let go. I was riding a bike! I glanced over my shoulder to see him smiling and fading in the distance. What we both forgot was that I had no idea how to stop the bike. Frantically, I turned myself to one side and jumped off, leaving the bike to go careening out of control and into a telephone pole. That bicycle was tough, however, and hit many telephone poles, parked cars and trees before I learned how to use the brakes. Thanks for bringing back this wonderful memory for me.

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  26. Wylie

    When I was a little girl, every summer I went upstate (in NY) to visit my grandparents. When I was around 7, my grandfather had bought me a used two-wheeler bike (without training wheels), and painted it blue-grey. He was so proud, and I was so excited. My grandmother (!) got on the bike to show me how to ride it. I’ll never forget her pedaling around on the driveway and grass in the front yard, the skirt of her housedress flying in the breeze. So I spent most of the next day balancing the bike and rolling down a long sidewalk on a hill across from my grandparents’ house. The sidewalk was bordered along the left side by a privet hedge, and I lost track of how many times I fell into that hedge. But at the end of the day, I could maneuver the bike up and down the hill without falling. I felt like I was flying going down the hill. I was so proud! One very tired and very scratched-up little girl went to bed that evening!

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  27. Wylie

    And I just read Deb L.’s comment, and laughed at how similar our stories were! And my grandmother was Nana, too! 🙂

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  28. Merry

    When I was a kid (back in the Dark Ages) I went everywhere in the neighborhood on my bike … in summer I left after breakfast, came home for lunch and out again until dinner … lived on wheels as if I was born with them. Much much later, well into the married years, I developed a hankering for a serious Bike with a capital B … and ended up, even then, with something French – a new and gorgeously ORANGE Gitane 5 speed, men’s version (as advised but to this day unsure why), tall and tiny-seated as I was at the time. No idea how to deal with it, hand brakes especially. The house was on something of a hill … nothing major but enough to be a challenge in the winter when it snowed or iced up, as it does in the south. And the driveway curved down across the yard as it wound through the trees down to the street. You have the picture. First foray: I climbed up on the bike, onto the hard seat, dug my feet into the metal pedals, wobbled around a few times and headed down the driveway. No idea how to make the thing slow down, much less stop, as I automatically tried to back pedal to no avail. I knew to use the hand brakes – just couldn’t. Met a tree head on … and that was that. Later on, the Gitane moved with me into the next phase of my life, divorced, another home. A lovely French artifact that absolutely terrified me so much that I never mastered it and finally gave it away. Now, of course, I’d love to have it … I’d definitely try to ride it again if I did, now that I’m a grandmere … got to practice what you preach! But really, I’d be OK just sticking to the stationary type …

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  29. Teri

    When I bought my bike, it was several months after Himself and a bicyle nerd friend bought theirs. Said nerd friend thinks it’s cool to have all the do-dads and tools to look like he’s a “pro”. One such do-dad was a tire patch kit to constantly fix his light/impossibly thin tires that kept going flat.
    When I went to get my bike (ALONE!), I told the shop owner (who still remembered nerd friend with a laugh) that *I* did not think it was cute or fun to sit on hot pavement fixing a tire. I wanted bullet proof tires! With a grin he told me that they did carry Kevlar tires! I said, “Put them on!!”
    …haven’t had to fix a flat yet! LOL

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  30. Irina

    I don’t remember how I learned to ride a bicycle … but I had a little experience in some sort of … not exactly Tour de France, but … when I was four or five y.o. we lived in a not-so-big town in Ukraine. One weekend the town organized a tricycle race among the population of the appropriate age. Families filled the town’s stadium and off we went pedaling hard and cheered by mothers and fathers. I worked hard at first until some other child passed by me. I stopped and soon found myself sitting on my tricycle in the middle of a sandy cloud left by my fellow tricyclists (not sure if it’s a word). I realized, I was not going to be a winner. People were cheering and shouting ‘go, go’. And I though ‘since I’m not going to get the prize, what’s the point to continue. Well, they let me chose a prize from a bunch of toys anyways.

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  31. Paulita

    I am so sad that the Tour de France is over. I got my daily fix watching every morning before I ran out the door to work. My fix was for France, not for the bicylists, still, I enjoyed the race and got into rooting for the riders. Andy Schleck was my favorite. He came in 2nd. Oh, well.
    I admire that you chose not to have a television. We avoided TV for the longest time, but have given in now that the kids are teenagers. TV really eats up your life. No wonder you have time to create amazing dinner tables. You don’t watch TV

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  32. everton terrace

    Ahhh, the bike story. This would be my daughter who would not learn to ride a bike until she was 18 and even now has only gone for about 3 bike rides in her life – she is 25. It was always such a strange thing to us she even wrote a college entrance essay about it.
    I tried to teach her, her father tried, her grandparents tried, her uncle tried. It’s not that she couldn’t do it, she just didn’t want to. Finally she said “why are you forcing me to do this”? The strange thing is she was such a delightful and easy child. Never talked back or rolled an eye (even as a teenager), she was sweet and lovely and did pretty much all that was asked and expected of her but I’ll tell ya, she never did make friends with the good old bicycle – or oatmeal, she never did like that either 🙂
    It was a good lesson for me to remember to see my child as she was and not what I thought she should or could be. I just knew she would love it eventually so we kept trying. She stood up at 8 years old and basically said “this is not who I am” and I heard her. Good lesson for me.

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  33. BabsM

    I remember a very hot Louisiana summer day when I was about 8 and I taught myself to ride my older sister’s bike. I tried and tried and worked and worked until I did it! I was sunburned and sweaty but I could ride that bike. I still remember the sleeveless shirt I had on and how red my arms and face were the next day, but it was worth it. I loved the remote control story. Since you don’t have a tv you are spared the male/female fight for control of the remote!

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  34. Cathy J.

    Wow, so many stories about bike experiences. Me, like many others here was taught to ride my bike by my dad. My parents are finacially practical and bought me a bike that would last for years. I remember it being a monster of a bike, but I was able to use it for many years. I loved that bike. Thanks for stirring up fond memories.
    Additionally, I’ve really enjoyed reading everyone else’s story.

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  35. Jillayne

    My bike story is really my son’s… at 3 years old he told us when he grew up he wanted to hammer and nail and build things. All his childhood, that was his plan and by the time he was 20 he was a Journeyman Carpenter. Then he decided to he wanted to be a Journeyman Scaffolder and so he went back to school and got his ticket for that, during which he worked up in the oil sands of northern Alberta, bought a condo in Calgary and seemed settled…but you know children…
    Last Fall at 23, he told us he was quitting it all, renting the condo and training to race triathlons. You must know when he was child he learned to swim but never really wanted to, had a bike but never rode it a lot and certainly never ran anywhere… so racing triathlons was a bit puzzling for us…
    Last month he entered the Alberta Provincial Triathlon and won first place in his age category, third overall! We were so very proud, but certainly dumbfounded – we didn’t know he had ever really liked any of it, never mind that he would be so good!!
    That little figurine reminds me so much of him – racing forward, to a future we can’t imagine but one that he certainly seems to see very clearly.

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  36. Paula W.

    My first bicycle was a purple Schwinn with stop and go brakes, a floral banana seat and a bell. The most beautiful bike I’d ever seen though I didn’t know how to ride it. My dad walked me over to my elementary school playground and held onto the back, or so I thought, as I followed the figure eight that was painted on the blacktop. Over and over again I traced that pattern with him holding on. As soon as I realized he was no longer holding on I lost my confidence and fell off skinning both knees on the blacktop. Somehow though, with his encouragement, I got back on and eventually pedaled all the way back home, ringing my little bell as I rode up the driveway, bloody knees and all.
    My daughter just turned eight, has a purple bike that she adores but cannot yet ride. She attends that very same elementary school where I long ago learned to ride. Perhaps this afternoon we will have a little lesson in “letting go”.

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  37. Lorretta from NH

    Story…son is home from Army..he feels I should ride with him…I am 63, haven’ ridden since I was 35, needless to say first time around I headed for my gazing ball in the yard and not wanting to hit it, down I went…husband and son laughing so hard,..they said I just turned handle bars and flopped straight over as though I hit a wall! Not sure I want to try it again!! But I would really love to win the bike for my son.

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  38. janet

    I first learned to ride a bike while visiting some friends of my parents. Suddenly I could just do it! After riding the bike around the block about 100 times I felt that I should try something more daring, so I did what other kids were doing and rode it off the curb. That did not go so well, actually…

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  39. Brenda L. in TN.

    My story is much the same as Deb L.’s.
    It was in the early 50’s and my grandmother taught me how to ride my bike as well. But…she didn’t ride! She never learned how!
    She held onto the back and we “walked” the bike around and around while I got a feel for balancing myself on it. We did this for a couple of days when she said “Now I’m going to let go and see what you do”.
    Well, I promply fell over. But she said “That’s OK. You’ll get the hang of it”. And I got back on with her holding onto the seat and a handlebar. We did this for another two days and she said “It’s time for you to try again” so she let go and I did it!! I rode around and around on the driveway and into the yard! I was so happy and she was so proud…we both couldn’t stop smiling! I was about 8 yrs old and she was in her 60’s.
    A very special memory for me…Thanks for asking.

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  40. JudyO

    I vaguely remember learning to ride a bike but my fondest bike memory is when in the summer my best friend and I would go for what we called “bike hikes”. We would each pack a lunch in a brown paper bag and meet at her house to decide where we would go that day. We had several places we like to ride to, all within a few miles of our houses. We would ride there, park the bikes and hike into the woods. We would look for lady slippers or wild berries and find a cool spot under the trees to eat our lunch. One of our favorited places was on the bank of the river that went through our town. We would sit and daydream about building houses there when we grew up and living side by side. I remember those times so well. Life seemed so easy and safe back then.Summer seemed to go on forever. Fast forward forty years. We did not build houses side by side but we are still best friends. Our daughters went to the same college and we have grandchildren born on the same day!

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  41. Joan

    I, too, am missing my morning Tour de France fix, especially the scenery and the continuous babble from Phil and Paul. My bike story is just remembering the freedom of movement and time while riding bikes with my sister. In the old days we were free to wander – just be home by dinner – and we would sometimes take the highway up to my uncle’s drug store where he would give us a free milkshake at his old-fashioned soda fountain. We thought that to be the best treat in the world! And who would allow their 10 year old out on the state highway these days..

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  42. Brother Mathew

    How I learned: Dad taught me to ride a “two wheeler with a motor” before I ever learned to ride a bicycle. First time on a bicyle I was eight riding down the lane. I loved it. I just remember the balance thing not being a problem having conquered it riding a motorcycle and the wonderful sense of gliding along without the motor noise.
    A few years later as a teenager I taught myself to ride a bicycle backwards which I used mostly to impress girls. Nowdays I impress my wife and her class of second graders. Always wear a helmet.

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  43. Laura

    The bike was an oldie. Something my parents bought inexpensively and lovingly painted green for me. It even had decals! I now realize I was embarrassed by the home-painted & decal-ed bike, but would give an eye tooth to have it back today!
    I learned to ride a bike in the back yard on soft green grass. Around and around the yard; past the sandbox, the”money tree” the playhouse….I HAD to go in laps because I didn’t know how to use the brakes yet – those pedal backward brakes. Besides, how could I stop once I finally had it down?

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  44. suesue

    As one of ten kids growing up in a small town, we never had any new bikes around. There was a little one that someone gave us that had the handles missing. My brothers stuck a broom handle in it and painted the whole thing with red and white stripes. It became “the Peppermint Twister” and all of us younger ones learned to ride on that in the back yard with our siblings running along side and giving us encouragement. I can still feel that freedom and the “big” feelings I had when I finally learned to keep going! One of the first gifts my husband ever gave me was a new bike and I’ll never forget how sweet a gift it was. I still love to ride my bike and the one I have now is Pink!!

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  45. Brother Mathew

    Like this story.

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  46. Brother Mathew

    No hand brakes. I like that. Keep riding.

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  47. Brother Mathew

    Sometimes the riders in the Tour de France end up in a pig pile.

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  48. Brother Mathew

    With the green jersey comes big responsibility.

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  49. Tamra/The Gilded Barn

    I learned the old fashioned way, pedaling down the street with my dad holding onto the seat running behind pushing and saying “You’ve got! Keep going! Look at you! Your’e riding your bike!!” Only to turn around and find he had let go many yards back! lol
    I watched my husband do the same thing with all three of our girls. I love the memory of those times.
    My middle daughter and her boyfriend love to ride bikes. This last weekend he took first place in a local bike competion put on at one of our local wineries. We are so proud of him!
    I thought of him when I saw these little metal cuties on your blog. They’re adorable.

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  50. Brother Mathew

    This is a cool story. I would have named the bike Spags.

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  51. Brother Mathew

    Nice story. Balancing a watermelon or a twelve pack, never gets old.

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  52. Brother Mathew

    We always called giving someone else a ride “pumping”. I pumped my brother to the pool.

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  53. Brother Mathew

    Huffy love.

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  54. Diane

    I learned to ride on my elementary school playground in Los altos, CA. I learned quickly, and I was so proud of myself. As I pedaled toward the large, concrete circle that was our younger grade student sand box, it suddenly occurred to me that no one had taught me how to stop. And so I drove right into the sandbox and landed on the pile of sand. Not a bad landing, but the approaching concrete rim was something that would show up in my nightmares for a few years after that (-: I can still feel the wind in my hair from that first ride. What freedom a bicycle gave me.

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  55. Brother Mathew

    Check out Ebay or Craigslist. I bet you could find a nice Gitane. No hills.

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  56. Linda C.

    Aren’t these all great stories!

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  57. Brother Mathew

    Something cool bout teaching yourself to ride.

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  58. Brother Mathew

    Road rash. Makes you feel alive!

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  59. Brother Mathew

    Blind leading the blind. All worked out though.

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  60. Rosemary

    My grandpa taught me to ride on the sidewalks of Chicago (many years ago). He got me up and going then held onto the back of the seat, promising not to let go. Off we went, and soon I was pedaling like crazy. Then I promptly feel into the bushes along the sidewalk. Yes, of course, he let go! The bike was a used one my parents bought for my sister and I to share. With nine children, no one got a new bike!

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  61. Brother Mathew

    Get your bikes out and go for a “bike hike”.
    Now!

    Reply
  62. Brother Mathew

    Hand brakes. Coaster brakes. No brakes. Brake stories are great.

    Reply
  63. Brother Mathew

    I agree!

    Reply
  64. MuseumMom

    My son is twenty now, but one of my favorite memories is riding bikes with him as a little boy to go get fresh corn from the farmer down the street. It hadn’t been easy for my son to learn how to ride, and this was a fun way to give him more practice. The farmer loved seeing us ride up, and we’d often be invited to go pick our own corn in the fields instead of choosing from the supply at the farm stand. Happy times!

    Reply
  65. Marina

    I sooo covet the little racer. Le Tour is my life in July and my family knows by now that little else matters for those three weeks. The bike was my ticket to freedom because I couldn’t just walk out of the house and down the street without facing an Inquisition about where, with whom, for how long, etc. But on a bike I could just race out of the driveway and away and no one said a peep. So now, married and with cildren I’m back at the beginning – where am I going, when will I be back. Maybe it’s time to dust off the old bicycle?

    Reply
  66. Tan

    I learned to ride in the mid-1950’s on a heavy coaster bike handed down from my sister. No training wheels –Dad put wooden blocks on the pedals so I could reach them, but I had to jump off quickly when I stopped because my feet didn’t touch the ground. Dad helped me get started but I really learned on my own because the Army sent him to Korea for 18 months. I eventually grew into it and rode that bike for years.
    Corey — this was in the San Joaquin Valley. Later when he was overseas again and we were back in CA, I rode miles and miles on country roads along the vineyards and orchards. Thanks for stirring up old, fond memories.

    Reply
  67. Orama

    Bro Mat never wore a helmet while learning to ride backward…….which explains alot.

    Reply
  68. Amy Kortuem

    My Dad set up a bike for me, stationary, over a pothole in our driveway. I pedaled and pedaled and pedaled for weeks on that. Then he added training wheels. I didn’t need them at all, riding straight and never touching the training wheels to the ground. He took them off a few days later. My first ride without them, I remember him running behind me and me screaming at the top of my lungs, “Don’t let go – Daddy don’t let go!” But he did when I was ready, and he watched me ride away on my own. Like all good fathers do.

    Reply
  69. Erin Perry

    Learned to ride in second grade. Thought when I moved to the beach several years ago, it would be fun to ride again. Practiced a bit around the neighbourhood, not too bad. Went on a longer trek to the local Mexican restaurant, got there fine, stopped the bike, but the seat was too high, couldn’t get my foot on the ground. Fell over, bike and all, in slow motion – splat on the asphalt. Result – scrapes, a broken big toe, and a bike that now belongs to my daughter. But I did get my chili relleno burrito!
    Erin in Morro Bay

    Reply
  70. McKenna

    When I first learned to ride a bike without training wheels, I had both my parents at my side. One holding a video or digital camera while the other held on to the back of my bike and pushing me along while I peddled. After we got going fast enough (which wasn’t very fast ;))my parents would let go of the back of my bike and let me ride! Of course I fell quite a bit but just kept getting right back up and back on the bike. Now I LOVE riding my bike everywhere! My friends and I will all meet up on our bikes and ride over the bridge above the river to the gas station where we buy a whole bunch of little candies. Then we ride all the way to our old grade school where we chat and eat our candies under the hot summer sun! Super fun! I <3 bikes! 😀

    Reply
  71. carol

    Ashamed to admit it but I can’t ride a bike. Growing up in a city my mother felt it was too dangerous. I was a passenger on a bike at a very young age – disobeyed my parents and we rode up to a park quite a long way from home – my “driver” got into a panic during rush hour traffic, lost control and we landed on the asphalt hearing screeching tires all around us. Needless to say my parents were not to pleased with me. Not a bike rider but I am glued to the TV when Le Tour de France is on – I LOVE IT!

    Reply
  72. Beachy

    What a FUN giveaway Corey! It took me a long time to learn to ride a bike without training wheels (years, in fact). I’d lean over onto one training wheel, making my bike a modified tricycle. One day to my astonishment, my parents had removed the training wheels. On my first feeble (ala total drama queen) attempt at riding, I deliberately keeled over and skinned my knee (a teensy scrape – barely enough for a bandaid even, but for this drama queen you’d think I needed surgery – lol). I swore I’d never ride again. I was sad seeing all my friends riding around the neighborhood, so I sheepishly dragged out my bike one day, and voila, in an instant I was riding. Bike riding came in handy, because my girlfriends and I did quite alot of it to chase boys!!!

    Reply
  73. Nance

    Hi Brother Mathew…Last week I needed eye surgery with a lot of our of pocket expense…Jack has become sweet in his years and sent me a big check to help on expenses.
    Maybe he invested that bike money well:-)
    Brothers are great and I only had one.

    Reply
  74. denise

    oh the little girl in me would love this giveaway. my story is not fantastic,just the basic. i only had my brother’s schwin to try riding. i would sit down on the lower part of the bike, down by the petals. i thought i should work on the balancing first. after i mastered that, i took the big step. it was going pretty good for awhile,but it was hard to reach the petals and……..i slipped off the seat unto that bar. that was so painful! i struck that bar, you know where. wow, didn’t know it could hurt so so bad. Bestest,Denise

    Reply
  75. Franca Bollo

    Nice to have you back on TIC, Orama Obama. I was getting of being the only smart ass here.

    Reply
  76. Franca Bollo

    Tired … I was getting tired. Fast brain, sloooow fingers.

    Reply
  77. Judy

    I was riding bikes with my twin brother. A car came up close behind me, my front tire hit the curb…I went
    head over handlebars and fell on the sidewalk..breaking my wrist in 2 places. About a week after having that cast removed…I was thrown off the teeter totter at our school by some ‘bully’ guys on the other end. You guessed it…wrist broken at the same 2 locations…while waiting in the emergency room of the hospital, my Dad came in …having cut off the tip of his finger with the lawn mower blades…true story. Since then, I have steered clear of bikes, bullys, teeter totters…and lawn mowers…lol…Judy B

    Reply
  78. Franca Bollo

    One summer evening, Sheba and I had the brilliant idea to put a pattern of skid marks on our father Phil’s pristine, concrete driveway. Over and over again, we’d ride our bikes to the bridge over the canal. From there, we’d take off and pedal furiously down the lane towards our house, turn right onto the driveway and slam our pedals back, right before hitting the garage door. The driveway filled up nicely with graceful arcs of black rubber until it happened. As Sheba approached the garage door — for the last time — she must of thought of Phil’s reaction to our driveway “art” because, paralyzed by said thought, she failed to brake, sending body and bike crashing full force into the door. I have that image seared into my retinas … Sheba pancaked against the wood, arms out from her sides in true cartoon style. She recovered in time to help me scour the driveway clean before Phil came out and suffered a myocardial infarction.

    Reply
  79. Linda

    I learned to ride a bicycle as a child on a friends bicycle . I never had one of my own as a child . Fast forward to marriage to a true bicycle enthusiast and now we have a basement full of them. We are now both 60 + and bicycling and of course the Tour de France is a major part of our fun pasttimes!

    Reply
  80. Janet Maddison

    Two years ago I acquired a bike and had not rode a bike since I was 12. My first tentative attempts were so funny that all I did was laugh and go around in circles! Yes, it is true that once one rides a bike,one never forgets, but it is the confidence one needs.The joy of riding was always clear in my mind and above all the freedom…the freedom to escape and take oneself to places that could not always be accessed by foot. Anyway,everyday I rode a little further, my hands CLENCHING the handlebars until I was riding 9kms a day and feeling slimmer,more confident and freer. I had regained the 10 yr old within!
    One dark morning, a pedestrian with whom I was sharing a path with walked suddenly in front of me and although both of us were not injured, it really knocked my confidence, I felt as if my wings were clipped. Now I do my cycling at the gym. It’s not the same of course..the 10 yr old is waiting until lighter mornings in Spring when I can once again ride around the harbour watching the ships and dolphins.
    Meanwhile we have our own Cadel Evans for giving us cudos and allowing us to ‘come out of the bikeshed’ in all our lycra glory no matter how old we are.
    That dear little metal cyclist will truly be my talisman.

    Reply
  81. Brother Mathew

    Well well, finaly a story out of the whole bunch using brakes for which they were intended. Skidmarks and broadslides!

    Reply
  82. Mardog

    So Mat, next time you see my Father at church, ask him how after I fell off of my tricycle he ran over my legs with his truck. Fortunately the bones of a 3 year old have some give. I was fine I am sure it was harder on him. No therapy has been needed for it.

    Reply
  83. Brother Mathew

    Yeah I need a helmet. I only wish I could go helmetless like my hard headed bone head brother.

    Reply
  84. Kathy

    It was a 26″ turquoise and white bicycle. Oh, how I loved it. My grandfather taught me and then just gave me a “push”. I’ve loved to bike ever since. 😉

    Reply
  85. Leigh

    I learnt to ride a bike when I was 7 yrs old and continued to cycle to high school. When I was about 14 yrs old there was a girl in the next form up …the envy of the all the girls! Her father, the owner of a bike shop had restored the most wonderful granny style bike for her complete with basket on the handlebars! From then on I wanted one of those bikes! Last year I discovered the made in England ‘Pashley Sovereign Princess’ complete with large basket. Yes, the NZ importer was only around the corner from my house…. it was meant to be! Guess what I brought myself for Christmas at nearly 50 yrs of age? After not having been on a bike for 28 yrs I’ve gained confidence riding and I’ve joined ‘Frocks On Bikes’ a cycling group for the older woman. Frocksters participate in stylish cycling wearing your best frock to cafes, no Lycra allowed! I used to love setting off early and cycling through Hagley Park feeding my soul with the beautiful historic buildings in our glorious ‘Garden City’…the most English city outside England. Alas no more, our beautiful city has been decimated by a serious of earthquakes over the last 10 months. My bicycle ‘Miss Marple’ has proved very useful in navigating cracks and potholes in the roads around our city. If I’m lucky enough to win your wonderful prize I’ll add him to my printers tray collection as inspiration to keep on peddling through the tough times.
    Leigh
    Christchurch
    New Zealand

    Reply
  86. Maggie Pawley

    I’m from Melbourne Australia and my Mum has a aholiday house at Barwon Heads { the beachsidehome Of cadel Evans – this uyear’s winner of the Tour De France.
    As you can imagine we have all gone crazy b/c “our boy” acheived what was thougth unacheivable. Great work to Cadel. Everyone in Oz is now getting back on their bike, even me . Mine is a well loved Aussie brand, a Malvern Star, which is a company that began here over 100 years ago.
    Viva La Tour
    Maggie

    Reply
  87. Deborah

    Ha! Yes, and they are going way faster than we were. ( not that beating our speed would take much!)

    Reply
  88. Franca Bollo

    That was your punishment for falling off your trike? Mean daddy. Mine nearly took my eye out with the fat end of a pool cue. And, as you know, I’m still in therapy.

    Reply
  89. Franca Bollo

    Word.

    Reply
  90. carol

    I lived in the country as a child. No sidewalks, no paved roads. Our driveway was gravel. My learning field was gravel, dirt, or grass. To make matters worse, I had to learn on my sister’s full size bike. (She was 7 years older than me). Soooo, I had to stand up and pump, because my feet would not reach the pedals from the bike seat!!!!!! This made stopping more than difficult. My brakes were jumping off the pedals and letting the seat hit me in the back side. (if you know what I mean ; ). As a result, my back side was black and blue. (with some green and purple thrown in!). I learned in spite of all these obstacles and my bike was my best friend. Especially when we moved to the big neighboring city (of 1,000 people. ). I sailed through the streets of Gurley on my green bike like I was in the Tour de France! The love affair did not stop there; I took my bike to college (no car) and rode it everywhere… classes, grocery store, I even took my dirty laundry to the local laundry mat on my bike! Oh the freedom of wheels without gas and the breeze in your hair. That is my love affair with my bicycle!

    Reply
  91. Salut15@ aol.com

    Red and white Schwinn,learned to ride it at our lake house on Lake Geneva,Wisconsin,when I was five. Fond memories of coasting down the long hill from the road,past our house,all the way to the Lake.
    As a MAJOR Tour de France fan,I’m. Drooling over this!Thanks for the chance to win it,Corey,

    Reply
  92. Rebecca from the pacific northwest

    My first bike was a surprise, out of the blue, not Christmas or birthday or anything! So amazing for my sister and me to each receive a beautiful, brand-new Schwinn!
    I also chose my mom’s bike as one thing to keep after she died. But since my sister lives in So. California on flatlands (Coronado island) and I’m in hilly western Washington, I only visit “my” bike when I’m there visiting her!
    I love this little metal guy. How generous of you to give it away.

    Reply
  93. Mahala

    When my son was 13, I backed over his bike. I felt terrible. We couldn’t fix it or get a new one for awhile, so he rode it with the wobbly wheel! He had a bit of fun with it till he got a new one!

    Reply
  94. Sally Henry

    My story is a love of tour story. When my son was in second grade we went to a bike race in Boulder Colorado. He was bitten by the bike race bug. Every year he and his dad would watch the tour on Wide World of Sports. Of course this was before Greg Lemond or Lance Armstrong and the Tour was not big on American Television. Still they would sometimes get up at 2:00a.m. to watch–whenever it was shown. Mostly it was reruns of the days race. When my son turned 30 and my husband turned 65, we threw the whole family in an airplane rented a Citron did the Tour. We saw all the mountain stages and the finish in Paris. Of course we fell in love with France. I love your blog and adore the little bike rider in the green jersey.

    Reply
  95. Mardog

    Whoa. Willows tough love lessons.

    Reply
  96. Mardog

    Sounds like the driveway needs some fresh ones.

    Reply
  97. Orama

    KIRT GARLIC

    Reply
  98. Sue @ Serendipity

    I don’t remember how I learned to ride a bike but…at the age of about seven I thought it fun to ride down our wide residential street in Abilene, Texas,with my eyes closed until the day I ran into a parked car. From that day on I rode with my eyes wide open!!
    LOVE the little antique figurine and I would give it a loving home should I win-thank you!!

    Reply
  99. Jonathan from Napa, CA

    I had to teach myself after I bought
    a bike without knowing
    how to ride one at the age of 30.
    It was a bit awkward when the
    proprietor of the bike shop asked
    me if I wanted to try it out in the
    parking lot. I never learned how
    to ride one as Santa never
    brought one when I lived in a
    small town and then later I moved
    to New York City and riding
    bikes on the street was too
    dangerous..

    Reply
  100. bramble

    My Pop taught me to ride a two wheeler when I was just turning 5 and had been bugging him to take off the training wheels. I nervously pedaled awkward and wonky as he steadied the bike and spoke in his lilting Irish voice saying soothing, encouraging things to make me feel more secure. “Ahhhh there now aren’t you the girl… looks like a champion to me…don’t you stop, tis a beautiful thing to behold…we are going to have to call yer Grahn…you are a natural… and with that he let go. I went sailing down the street like nobody’s business full of those encouraging words and straight into the back end of a 1965 Buick! Emergency visit to the dentist and a few chipped teeth and a fat lip later, I got back on that bike determined I could do it and I did! He was a great many things my Pop but he taught me courage when challenged.

    Reply
  101. Laura McHugh

    I learned to ride a bike when I lived in a house on a hill. One day, while my parents were having a dinner party, I took my new to me bike round the block. On the way down the hill, the chain slipped off the sprockets, thus disabling the brakes. That would have been fine, but the street was blocked off at the end by a 2×12 board on an angle because it had just been repaved. I was going really fast so I could jump off without really hurting myself. I decided to try to duck under the higher side of the board. I managed to hit the board smack in the middle of my forehead. A large goose-egg and road rash, but fortunately no broken bones.

    Reply
  102. momof5

    Wonderful stories all! Tough deciding on one bike story..so I won’t keep it to one. Like many others I was taught how to ride by my father running along hanging onto the seat. When I was 9 I fell off my bike scraping my face on a screw on my basket requiring 27 stitches and still have the scar to prove it. When I was 20 I sold my clunker car and bought my first new “good” bike a Peugeot 10 speed which I rode everywhere for many years. I loved nothing better than coasting full speed downhill (no helmets in those days)with the wind on my face. I’d love to ride from Canada to the tip of South America…(my other desire is to horseback ride from pub to pub in England/Ireland) Now if there was a Brocante bike riding tour or horseback tour that would truly be a dream!

    Reply
  103. Ann

    I learned to ride a bike around 5 yrs old as my Uncle would push me and laugh and laugh at the site of me falling. Of course I was laughing and crying at the same time but it was fun. Fast-forward, in Grad school, I bought a bike so I could park and ride. I refused to pay for parking on campus and had to park my car many blocks away. I rode my car near campus then biked to classes. When I graduated I was a very lean size 6. I looked and felt terrific but it all ended with my new job where I was responsible for a major project involving medical staff of a hospital. If you want physicians to show up for a meeting you have to feed them. I had to make presentations at each meeting and now I was eating breakfast, lunch and dinner (filet mignon, cheesecake) and this is after being a starving student, so there went my slim body. Where oh where is my bike now?

    Reply
  104. patsy

    I never learned to bike. Although I thought I did. Once I brought out the bike, went down the hill and fell. A man was watching and I didn’t want his help, so I got up quickly, even if my legs were in pain, and I was bleeding, and walked quickly back home! Never got on a bike again!

    Reply
  105. Tammy Hensley

    I have an unfortunate bike story but not unfortunate enough to keep me from wanting to ride a bike. It was the summer before my junior year and I was out riding my bike feeling completely free after finishing my summer school class and grateful for a fe more precious weeks of summer before school started again. As I rode along I came upon some debris in the road from a construction project and was doing my best to slow down and avoid the junk in the road. I have no memory of getting from my bike in the road to a pile of wood and pipes with my bike lying on top of me but I was. As I tried to get up and get my bike off of me, I realized my right arm was in excruciating pain and I looked down to see blood dripping from my face. Eventually my family found me and got me to the hospital. I had dislocated my shoulder and chipped the clavicle bone. I had also scratched up my face really good and had a big gash inside my lower lip from my teeth being forced into it on impact. The doctors got me all fixed up as well as they could but I don’t think I went out in public for about three weeks until some of my facial issues were a bit more healed. It took a long time but I did get back on my bike and still love it today. I certainly can’t imagine doing what the riders on the Tour de France do every year, that’s for sure!

    Reply
  106. Julia Foge

    My bike riding memories are of my Dad behind me holding onto the banana seat up and down the street in front of our house. Now I’m teaching my son (3) to ride a bike and they have bikes without pedals so that we don’t have to use training wheels! They are so cool, I just hope they work!

    Reply
  107. Laurie SF

    My bicycle had a banana seat, basket, tassels and only two speeds. Go and stop. A far superior bike was leaning against the side of the house. My brother’s brand-spanking- new, ten-speed Schwinn and off limits it was. I spent the entire summer of 1979 sneaking his bicycle down the drive and standing to pedal away. My legs in a frantic, pumping motion, as he tried to catch me. “LAURIE, BRING BACK MY BIKE. YOU JUST WAIT! I’LL BE WAITING FOR YOU.” Ping! Ping!
    Oh, and wait he did.

    Reply
  108. Hopeful Homemaker

    I haven’t owned a bike in probably 20 years or more. A year or two ago my husband won a little 50 cc dirt bike. My sons were riding it around the yard when my husband asked me if I’d like a go. My teen-aged son scoffed, “Yeah right! You can’t even ride a BIKE.” I looked at him, stunned that he actually believed I was incapable of it. So I hopped on for a ride just to silent him. Guess I’d better get a bike.
    And the figure is amazing. I’ve never seen them before but what a great little collection!

    Reply
  109. Gypsy Threads

    I am amazed that I never thought about what an impact Dads made in the world of bicycle riding. I am certain there are nearly as many Moms who ran along side, holding onto the back of the seat, as the front wheel had a life of its own. Of course, Mom was prepared, she had a band aid ready – just in case there was a fall.
    My first bike was a blue Huffy. I had to wax it with my dad’s car wax. No rust on my tire rims! There was not much of a place to ride, just up and down the driveway and finally the street behind. No roadways for this gal! I lived in terror of falling. A metaphor for life, eh?
    The little green guy is wonderful. A reminder of an afternoon spent with a dear friend and a memory of how in a moment what we felt was so important, really was not. I wonder what stories that bicycle rider could tell!

    Reply
  110. Kimberly

    One funny not so funny biking story. I was on a 50 mile ride with my Dad and at about 12 1/2 miles I got distracted watching a man jogging in front of me. He had real nice legs, well anyway, I crashed right then and there behind the guy with the nice legs. I had to turn around and ride back 12 1/2 miles to the car banged and bruised up pretty badly. My Dad still talks about that day. Blessings, Kimberly

    Reply
  111. Donna O’Brien

    As I am a December baby my sixth birthday fell on a rainy day on Christmas vacation. Always a tug a war for my parents to decide what would be gifted for Christmas and for my birthday 5 days later. On my sixth Christmas there was no bike under the tree. But 5 days later I was ‘skating on thin ice ‘ trying to master the bike that I had promptly declared should have no training wheels. All was going along swell until a large and very ugly frog hopped up into my oncoming determined lip biting autobahn of the sidewalk. Playing chicken with a frog was not on my list that morning but there the two of us were. An hour later as I sat waiting in the doctor’s office to have my chin stitched I wondered about the fact that I had nearly run that damned frog over. He was barely grazed and I took it on the chin . Where was the happy ending where the frog turned into a prince and I a princess?. Instead, I had a huge bandage on the lower half of my 6 year old head. My bike was still okay to ride and I did for many years more. Funny, I remembers days when the streets were completely quiet , no cars and on rainy days I would break the rules and ride in the street. I pretended I was riding in the streets of London as the roads were a bit cobblestoned. I love that feeling of thinking I was somewhere else. Maybe it was France instead?? Oh to have a Frenchman on his bike come to see the scar on my chin would be a full circle. We could meet and dine over frogs legs. Oh, I could pop a wheelie just thinking about it!!
    XO Donna (Ribit…Ribit)

    Reply
  112. LibbyWNZ

    I agree, Leigh, the Pashleys are wonderful. I have recently started biking again after 40 yrs – I bought an Electra and hope to join Frocks on Bikes this summer.

    Reply
  113. Merisi in Vienna

    A tiny hamlet in the middle of nowhere. The baker’s apprentice from a village a few miles away would deliver bread a couple of times a week. I was five years old and charmed (pestered?) him into letting me ride his bike from my parent’s house to his next customer down the road. He had a two-wheel trailer attached to the bike that acted like training wheels. Within a few weeks, I was able to ride a bike. I still remember the fragrance of fresh bread and there are moments when riding a bike when I turn around and am disappointed no trailer loaded with fresh bread is following me.

    Reply
  114. Diane Dainis

    Got my first 3 speed bike, proudly got on the bike started to peddle straight toward the lake, figuring I’d ride along side. Problem was, I’d never used hand brakes before. Oops! Harder to stop. Straight into the lake. Good thing I could swim. 🙂

    Reply
  115. Maura

    Hello Corey!
    I learned to ride a bike when I was about 5. I really had no interest in riding a bike but I LOVED horses and always wanted one. SO my dad cut out a piece of wood the shape of a horses head and painted it and mounted it on my little bike…that was it…I was on my bike every chance I got. I did eventually get a real horse years later 😉 I LOVE your little Tour de France men and I would LOVE a chance to win one. I hope you and your family have a wonderful day!
    Maura 🙂

    Reply
  116. Jane Ann

    Wow! So many good stories. You have your work cut out for you.
    I think I was about 5 years old when I learned to ride a bike. It was a blue bike with a very neat basket on the front. It might of even had streamers from the handlebars. I do not remember too much about the mishaps of learning, but what I do remember is the feelings I had as I learned. My tall daddy (6’4″) bending over this little girl and bike. It was a fall day in Michigan. There were all sorts of crunchy leaves on the ground. A gentle breeze stirred up the leaves along with the running of my Dad’s feet and the whirring of my tires. My dad encouraged me every step of the way. I was beaming on the outside and deliciously warm on the inside. What fun! I loved it and I loved my special time with my daddy. He is my hero! I adored him then and still do, 50 years later.

    Reply
  117. Brenda, Walker, LA, USA

    I loved the little biker figurines! You will have lots of reading material!
    My Dad and my older brother taught me to ride my bike. I had turned five that August.
    I was just fine with my trike, but they prompted me to ride the new one I had gotten for Christmas telling me I would be the only one on the block still riding the trike! It took some convincing, pointing out that the Ice Cream Man rode a big bike, and it was a step towards me driving a car! My dad said he would buy me a car like Barbies! My brother said I could ride with him and his friends to the store to get an “Icee”! Finally with them along side me, I took off, with guidance and a few falls, I finally got it! Make note that I was so bummed when I could not ride with the Ice Cream Man, and never got that Barbie Pink Convertible, But I’m Over It Now!
    Thanks, and God Bless you, Corey for bringing back the memories!

    Reply
  118. Jude Jackson

    I was a goofy little girl (as opposed to being a goofy big girl) living in NW Florida when my uncle gave an old used boy’s bike. I was about six and I hopped on that bike and it took me a while to figure out how to use the brakes, so I ran into pines trees to stop the bike. This would also throw me off everytime. Learning to ride the bike was hard!!! But I got the hang of it and started a life long love affair with bicycles. When I was ten I got my first real bike and I would ride all day long and sing Beatle songs as loud as I could…She loves you, Yeah, yeah, yeah!!!

    Reply
  119. Kristin Johnsen

    I didn’t really ride a bicycle until I was much older – around 11 – since when I was little we lived on a highway – so no safe place to ride! But I somehow knew how when we moved to that small town and I remember the trip to the big city (Seattle!!!) to buy the pretty new bike that was to be mine – and riding that bike was how I got to school. So I don’t know WHY on that fateful day in the summer when I went up to the river to see the fish spawn, that I rode this old funky thing that my Dad had picked up for free – the one that threw me when I came careening down the hill and lost control! Let’s just say that many parts of my skin were left on that gravel road that day!

    Reply
  120. Diane

    I remember dreaming I was riding my bike. I woke up and the first thing I thought of was ‘why am I laying in bed when I could be out riding my bike. It then dawned on me that it was only a dream and I did’nt have one. I was about 8 years old and was hell bent on learning to ride a bicycle. A few days later, my older brother’s maroon Schwinn bicycle was left leaning against the back porch. I sat on it and accidently ‘cast off’. I could manage the peddling, balancing and general riding but had no idea how to stop. Since it was a boy’s bike, the bar scared the crap out of me and my feet by no means could reach the ground. I sailed down the driveway screaming and headed down the sidewalk. For some reason a younger neighborhood boy decided it would be a good idea to run along beside me pushing the rear fender to go faster. He was laughing and very amused. I was screaming “Runaway bike – help!! Go tell my dad!!” I just don’t recall how many laps around the block I made but was passing my house when my father came out and ran with the bike till he could grab it and end my terror. Shortly after, I was given a new, royal blue 24″ GIRLS bike and never looked back, screaming or otherwise. Thanks for surfacing this memory.

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  121. dancing kitchen

    I never had my very own bike, I always had other peoples castaways. My mother and father would clean them up, but I knew they were originally meant for someone else. I bought my very own pink bike about 3 years ago, at 37. It’s pedal forward with a basket on the front. My own very own bike just for me. I love it and ride every chance I get.

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  122. Brother Mathew

    Bicycle stories on top of bicycle stories. Like mom would say..”I could write a book”.

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  123. Elizabeth

    Once upon a time right before I married my husband he decided to ride his bike up to Canada and back. We lived in wisconsin so it wasn’t too much of a stretch. He packed up his touring bike and headed up to the boundary waters above minnesota. In due course after lots of pedaling he hit the deep dark woods somewhere north of Duluth, MN. My husband is pretty erm… confident in his course of direction so of course he decided that any road pointing north would probably take him towards Canada. That night he camped in the woods and the next morning he picked a road out and started heading north.
    After a half a day of riding the road turned into a gravel road. He had been prepared for some of that so he just kept going and going. Soon, the gravel road turned into a two tire track lane through the woods. After a little bit more peddling it turned into an ATV trail and suddenly, he looked down and realized there was no trail at all. He was simply peddling through the middle of nowhere in the woods! Instead of turning around like a normal person (hah!) he decided he would just continue WALKING north through the woods carrying his bike. He picked up his (heavy!) bike fully loaded with camping equipment and started bushwacking through the Superior National Forrest.
    This was going swimmingly until…he saw a very large bear lumbering through the woods in his direction. My husband, being raised in urban Philadelphia had never encountered a bear outside of a zoo before and decided to pick the flight option of fight or flight. He dropped his touring bike, with everything in it, in the middle of the woods and booked it in the other direction until he hit a logging road. From there he followed the logging road until he came across the first sign of civilization which was a small fish and tackle store.
    The owner or the fish and tackle store listened to the story and laughed his head off about my husband being afraid of a black bear, which are about as easy to scare off as a dog if you’re just loud enough! Kindly, the man took the GPS coordinates (my husband had a GPS tracker on him) and they took off on the guy’s ATV to go get my husbands bike in the middle of the woods.
    Sure enough, they found it and the bait and takle guy had another good laugh about how a very urban bike came to be sitting there in the deepest part of the national forrest…
    And that’s how my husband learned to ride his bike in the woods 🙂

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  124. Karen B.

    I have an old garage sale bike now, but, I remember having a bike with:
    Plastic streamers coming out of the handle grips.
    Banana seat.
    Playing cards for the spokes to snap. And riding till the sun went down.
    That bike was my pride and joy. Then,
    I married a guy who never outgrew his boyhood passion for bikes. He rides for fun, sport and commuting to work. It keeps him young and …his legs aren’t bad either!! Biking is something one should never outgrow!

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  125. shelley gerard bailey

    poof…my post disappeared…second time around…i have a vintage coaster bicycle that i road down beartooth pass in montana on…it was the coaster classic…where you coast down the mountain on a bike…no hand brakes…just back peddle for a break….i was a little unsure about the ride…my back peddle brake worked like a dream…better than any hand brake…it was an amazing ride…just like i was flying…i was 50! it was better than when my training wheels came off when i was first learning to ride as a kid….vintage coaster bikes are the best…actually anything vintage is great…play well…

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  126. Merry

    I will! Hadn’t planned on inspiration … I think I’m finally ready. Thanks, “Bro!”

    Reply
  127. Joan Thodas

    I got my first bike when we spent Christmas in Willows, I was six. I had two teachers, my father and my Uncle George. We have home movies of them running alongside me, riding on the lane toward the canal.

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  128. laura

    Hi
    Am I too late to get in on the bike story…..or can I just throw myself down and the ground and beg you to let me buy the antique bike toy.
    Here goes.:
    My dad bought an old bike from a friend of his. It was a hand-me- down girl’s bike…….but I loved it. Unfortunately, My legs were just a little too short…couldn’t reach the pedals. So my dad tried to train me on my brother’s old bike. I was getting the hang of it…with the help of my dad pushing behind…then letting go. One day, I decided to try it without him.
    Big mistake. I stopped short and flew forward on the middle bar….oh the pain of it. I walked the bike home…and decided I would wait until I grew an inch and could ride my “bar free” girl’s bike.

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