One Speed Bikes

Recently, Dad had decided to do a little "housecleaning." This translates into "take the toys from your childhood home to your house and get them out of mine." Ok. Easy enough, much to the chagrin of my husband. After nearly 40 years, my banana seat bike came back into my possession. It is aptly named "The Dove", a lovely white bike with a blue banana seat and a cloud with a flying orange dove. This was the most beautiful bike I had ever owned. I remember when Mom and Dad purchased this bike for me for my 8th birthday, Big Sister Amy got the same exact bike for her birthday. (Our birthdays were only 2 weeks apart and we often had a combined birthday party.) Mine, however, had an awesome white wicker basket on the front with bright flowers embellishing it. That way we could tell them apart. Cool thing about this bike? I had awesome ape hanger handlebars, a banana seat and a sissy bar. And it only had one speed. The speed at which my legs could pump the pedals to make the bike move. I rode that bike all over our tiny town/village. At first, Mom didn't trust me to ride on the road winding thru our tiny town for fear of me getting hit by some random driver. I think it was perhaps more that I had a tendency to day dream as I was bike riding and she was afraid I would veer into oncoming traffic in one of my inattentive moments- this is most likely true. When I was 9, however, I was able to ride across town and visit my friend, Kelly. Sometimes I would stop at Connie and Rhonda's for a chat and then meander off to wherever my bike took me. As I got older and my legs got longer, we couldn't move the seat up anymore to accomodate the growth spurts that I seemed to have every 3 months. So, I would ride Mom and Dad's bike. Now I say "Mom AND Dad's" because there was only one adult bike and they would share it. When baby sister was still small, there was a child's bike seat attached to the back so that she could enjoy our family bike rides, too. By the time I was able to ride the bike, Baby Sister was too old to sit in the seat so Mom took it off. I mean, what 12 year old wants to be seen riding around on a bike with a baby seat on it? It was enough to get you beat up on the playground. Lately I have been looking for a bike for myself, since my children are old enough to ride their own bikes. I would look at the bike displays and think...what the?!?! I don't need a 21 speed bike that has a built in pedometer, heart rate detector, blue light for night riding, gel padded seat, arm rests for leaning forward when going uphill, automatic braking, AED machine, and a Life Alert button. No. I want a basic bike. One that I pedal with my legs at a sedate pace so that I don't have a heart attack. I am not going to ride the Tour de France...I am going to ride the streets of in my town with my children. I informed Mom that I was looking for a bike and she offered up a suggestion. "Would you like that old bike of mine that is hanging in the shed?" WHAT?!?! Did she honestly still have that terrific bike of my youth? OF COURSE!! Dad pulled it out, pumped up the tires (that were still in excellent shape after all these years) and I gave it a test drive. I whizzed down my parents driveway, down the quarter mile lane I used to walk down every day during school to catch the bus,felt the breeze on my face as my hair whipped in the wind, turned around in the road and rode back toward the house. I noticed that I had to work a little harder than I did at 12 to get back up the small slope to Mom and Dad's house, but it took me to use my legs a little harder and not wimp out by changing gears! I pulled into the driveway, heart pounding, wheezing, sweating, dizzy and feeling every bit of my age, but I was exuberant! I could still do it and the bike tires didn't deflate, the metal rims didn't bend or crumple under the weight of a 43 year old woman who had birthed two children, had a desk job and a penchant for chocolate. So, this year for Mother's Day, I was the grateful and giddy recipient of a 38 year old bike that reminded me that I may be old but I am nowhere near ready for the trash heap! Best Mother's Day. Ever.