Riding The Wheels: Bicycling And Roller-Skates

 

It all started around the age of two or three years of age that I threw a fit inside the department store.

My mother said she had to take the last of her money to buy the Big Wheel low-ride that caught my eye as soon as I had spotted it on display.

My mother’s money did not go to waste.

I rode that Big Wheel up and down the block of our neighborhood and everywhere else when I was supervised by an adult.

I had a high-ride tricycle prior to the Big Wheel that I barely rode. I was not enthusiastic about the red three-wheeler as it later collected dust in the garage.

The color of my Big Wheel was red and yellow. I wore the plastic out of the rider I rode it so much. It had partially split in half.

I loved my Big Wheeler!

When I had gotten a little older my uncle bought me a blue colored bike with training wheels.

When it was time for the training wheels to come off my mother taught me how to ride holding my balance. I learned fast all in one day.

Afterwards, there were other children on the block of our neighborhood who asked my mother to teach them how to ride their bikes without training wheels since their parents had not shown them yet.

In between the periods of the Big Wheel and bike I also enjoyed riding the wheels of my roller’s skates and hot-pink colored skateboard.

Though the skateboard did not interest me nearly as much as the other apparatuses.

Before I hit my teenage years, my mother purchased me a 10-Speed bike.

The last time I rode a bike was in the year 1998.

Bike riding was always a fun, enjoyable activity for me. From childhood riding through the streets with my puppy chilling in the basket of the handle-bars, around corners, and up and down steep hills.

Riding in groups with other neighborhood children reveling in the hot mornings, afternoons and evenings of spring and summer.

I had some wonderful times with a bicycle.

Bicycling as an adult in the quiet of the night, under the calm leaves of trees. Refreshing air blowing amid a breeze while going to get something to eat or something otherwise are just pleasurable accounts to remember.

 

Gliding Down Memory Lane: Ice-Skating

 

The first time I ever went ice-skating I was twelve years of age.

A neighbor took me, her daughters and my god-brother to Rockefeller Center in Manhattan, New York.

I learned how to ice-skate that evening almost immediately.

The activity on ice was exciting and fun.

Since then, I have been down that area of Rockefeller Center plenty of times passing through but never have I been back to the ice-skating rink.

Far before that time I recall going to a roller-rink with my mother and associates from our neighborhood.

I was a little pro at Roller-Skates on the sidewalk and streets of Queens, New York but at the rink with the strobe-lights and disco music is seemed as if the floors were actually spinning so I stayed on the sidelines and watched my mom skate around the floor with the help of a gentleman who helped to hold her steady on her feet.

Fast forward ahead at the ice-skating rink where my god-brother at the time was gliding in between two friendly girls who helped to hold him on his feet after he had fallen onto the ice a couple of times.

We (my god-brother and I) laughed at the situation as we had a sense of humor that was out of this world.

My puppy got in on the action as she would run to pull me along as I held her leash while on my roller’s skates through the streets.

She also loved running beside me as I rode my bicycle up and down the block.