Bike Ride

December 28, 2010
By Starbuck SILVER, San Tan Valley, Arizona
Starbuck SILVER, San Tan Valley, Arizona
6 articles 0 photos 3 comments

I sat miserably on the edge of the cinderblock semicircle that kept a lone decorative bush prisoner, immensely immersed in thinking about, well, nothing really, and I watching my younger siblings as they raced exuberantly down the street on their vibrantly colored scooters, racing both each other and their friends. I didn’t posses a scooter, indeed the only thing remotely similar was my much despised bicycle, which, despite numerous attempts at learning (most of which had been orchestrated by my father, and had ended in the exasperation of both him and myself), I was yet unable to ride.

On a whim, I ventured into our garage and retrieved the bicycle, guiding it gently through the haphazard obstacle course, dodging empty boxes and forgotten play toys, stepping out into the brittle monsoon air. I then proceeded to make the slow pilgrimage down our driveway, meticulously maneuvering the bike so as to not hit either the bulky minivan or the ancient red Toyota, for fear of denting them even more than they already were. Finally, I was on the side walk, now void of any excuse for procrastination. Cautiously, I mounted the bike, which had for so long been nothing but a source of bitter resentment and frustration, bracing myself for another devastating failure. Gently, I pushed the kickstand back, off the ground where it couldn’t interfere with my attempts at riding.

Much to my astonishment, I somehow managed to retain my balance, and was pedaling effortlessly down the street. I could feel the elation of success coursing through my veins, my hair being tousled by the air rushing past me as I surged forward, euphoric at my new found skill. The familiar houses that lined our street passed by quickly, and the edge of the street, accompanied by a wide turn that led into the street on the opposite side of the block was looming closer and closer. I was unsure of my ability to control the bicycle inn a turn, having never ridden before, and was naturally dreading having to try. It began to sprinkle lightly, and I was distracted from my dark contemplations long enough to wonder at the fact that though I was outside and unprotected, only a very sparse number of water droplets managed to hit myself or my bicycle. Finally, I arrived at the edge of the street, and was relieved when I rounded the corner with ease. Rejoicing in my success, I pushed the bike to a greater speed then standing on the pedals and coasting for a while, letting the bike do all of the work.

The author's comments:
This was written for school.

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