I’m not quiet sure when I learned to ride a bike. I think Santa brought bikes to Frances and I the first year we moved in with Grandpa Hunter. That would have been when I was seven and a half years old.
As I remember it, that Christmas Morning Frances and I just hopped on our bikes and pedaled up the hill on Manget Street, then up East Dixie Avenue, then up Atlanta Street to Waterman Street, and then down Wayland and cut right at Steele’s Store and visited the Claytons on our new bikes.
Like I said, that is the way I remember it. I think we had to go through a transition of leaning to keep balance on bikes… keep it moving. I vaguely Daddy pushing me down the hill on Manget Street to get rolling fast enough to keep my balance, but I think the time I took flight on it, completely balanced, once when Grandpa Hunter was pushing down Manget Street hill. I remember gliding away from Grandpa and staying balanced, and away I went.
I must have been closer to 8 years old.
The reason I am trying to show the most probable age I learned to keep my own balance on my bike was because our grandson Benjamin took the flight of bike balance today at 4.75 years at Grant Park today. We are so proud. So are his parents.
It brought back sweet memories for me.
Below: Benjamin Biking in Grants Park.
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