They say you never forget how to ride a bike. That’s true, more or less.
At least, that’s the case for “Carrie.” She’s the S.O. of “Sam,” the friend and riding partner I met not long after moving into my current place. We have become friends, not only because of her relationship with ‘Sam:” We “got” each other in spite (or because?) of our differing backgrounds. Turns out, we have more in common than I ever would have imagined.
Among those common experiences is cycling, at least in her youth. She hadn’t ridden in at least 25 years. At first, I thought she wanted to ride again simply to join “Sam” and me. After finding a suitable bike for her and seeing her on her first rides, I realized that she was looking for something else.
Getting a bike on which she would be comfortable was the first step. She is about 5’3” 160 cm) and, while a few years younger than me or “Sam,” has trouble lifting her leg over the top bar of a “diamond” frame. (She tried one “Sam” found.) And she wanted something pretty, which I can well understand.
Here in New York City, shopping for a bike on Craigslist is, shall we say, an adventure. Some of the listed bikes are stolen. Others are billed as “vintage.” Translation: The seller wants $400 for something they fished out of the Gowanus Canal.
Somehow I lucked out: A Trek bike with an aluminum frame and 24 inch wheels for a decent price. Although the location was given as “Upper East Side” it was, in fact in East Harlem. But the seller seemed OK: She described the bike as accurately as she could and explained that she’d bought it for her daughter who no longer lives with her. The bike was actually in pretty good condition: The wheels were true and spun smoothly; the tires and tubes weren’t punctured or dry-rotted. I did, however, replace the cables, as I would on any used bike.
Her first ride nearly stopped my and “Sam’s” hearts: She wobbled and fell. Fortunately, she didn’t have even a bruise or a scrape. And she wanted to try again. And again. Finally, she rode straight as the chainline on my fixie down the block and back. “I did it! I can’t wait to do more!”
“We will.”
Now I believe I understand why she wanted so much to ride. She probably wanted to share another aspect of my and “Sam’s” lives. But her exultation told me something else: Getting on the bike and riding, even for such a short distance, is a genuine accomplishment. It’s something we need at any stage in our lives, especially as we age fret that “we aren’t what we used to be.” It doesn’t matter what that achievement is, whether it’s as big as earning a degree or writing a book, or as “small” as learning how to cook a new dish.
Oh, and “Carrie” looked like she was having fun she hadn’t had in a long time, if ever. She needed it; we all need to experience that kind of joy, for the first time again, at any age.
