A bike under the tree.
Samson age 4, riding his “big kid bike” for the first time. circa Dec. 2001.
When I was a kid, one of my favorite things in the world, was riding my bike. I remember my first bike so well, it was bright yellow Haro, and yes, it had training wheels. I'm older than the balance bike craze even though some of you wouldn't believe it by looking at me. I also remember not being able to ride it outside for the first few days I had it. You see, there was about 48" of snowpack where I grew up in Central Idaho during the holidays. So, after the holidays passed and my parents were able to take a few days off, (worst part about working at ski resorts is you have to work the holidays.) Best part about it, is I get to open my presents at 4 am before my parents drag me to the mountain.
So after a few weeks of riding in circles in our living room, we made the over two hour, 100 mile roadtrip through the canyon and to the Treasure Valley. Where you could see the pavement in the winter time. That used to really bewilder me as a kid, I couldn't comprehend a place not getting multiple feet of snow. It always felt a little bit like magic that we could be skiing one day, then riding bikes and skateboards in Boise the next.
I wasn't too hasty to learn how to ride it without the training wheels, I wouldn't say I was cowardly, because I was 4 and 5, but I would say that I was a cautious child. Which could be correlated to a natural intelligence and understanding of the danger of the world. It also could have been that my dad was a Shane McConkey level sender when it came to anything that you could hurt yourself while doing. So watching him huck himself off of most cliffs while skiing or going way too big on his homemade bike jump over the bonfire made me understand that you should sometimes, look before you leap. Which may or may not have had an effect of me looking far too long and leaping too late during my childhood. Example one being training wheels.
You see, I spent at least two full summers using training wheels after I first got that bike. Granted, I was pretty young, having just turned four, and was a little small for it. I also had been skiing and ice skating since I could walk, and was better than most adults at that point. But for some reason, the bike was different. Skiing and Ice Skating were easy, it was like walking. But the concept of balancing this bike seemed like such a bigger task. And falling on concrete, not something I was stoked about. I liked the soft landing of the snow, or at least with ice skating you slide. On concrete, if you go down, it's going to hurt on impact, and you're gonna get scraped, and I was not into getting scrapes. I was not the best with blood as a kid. Let me rephrase that, becasue other people's or animal's blood didn't bother me, seeing my own blood outside of my body, made me actually scream and think I was going to die. So you can see how the prospect of ditching the training wheels didn't feel to be in my favor for those first few years.
That was, until the Bike Rodeo. It was fall of 2002, I had been ripping around the red Haro for almost a year at this point. I had just started kindergarten and I was feeling pretty dang fly. I went to the bike rodeo, I did all the obstacles, I didn't hit any cones, and I got my picture taken for the newspaper. But one thing I saw bothered me, kids in my grade, that didn't have training wheels. They seemed to be able to go faster, turn better, and they were riding on dirt, so fast. I wanted to experience that kind of freedom. I was over the training wheels and I was ready to learn how to ride without them.
My first taste of fame. Also the event that inspired me to ditch the training wheels.
I asked my mom and dad if they could teach me to ride without the training wheels, and they were super excited to do it. So we started trying that fall.
But like pretty much anything else my parents hasve tried to teach me since I gained conciousness, I didn't listen, they got frustrated and we didn't really get anywhere. This is something that I'm still working on to this day. So a few months later during spring break, my Uncle stepped in, if you have an Uncle that's a few years younger than your dad, lived in europe, and was taller, more patient, and kinda looked like Ryan Reynolds you'd learn better from him too.
The first time I did take off, while keeping my balance, my uncle and mom had to chase me down yelling at me to open my eyes as I rode straight into a pine tree. I opened my eyes just in time to slam into the branches with my eyes and mouth wide open. Once I got the pine needles out of my hair and teeth, I was feeling more confident to get back on the saddle. It took a few more trys to get going on my own and keep my eyes open at the same time but I'm proud to say I got there. And at 6 years old, after over a year and a few months of training wheels in March of 2003, I could ride a big kid bike.
After dropping the training wheels, my grandparents and I went on a roadtrip through Oregon, and I would have them stop at every campground that I thought would be fun to ride around in.
I think the pure joy of riding a bike when you’re a kid can get lost in the modern era of cycling. Whether it’s because you’re thinking too much about where to ride, how long, what you’re going to wear, what kind of bike you have, what kind of shape you’re in. Or any other number of excuses and causes for anxiety that we created as roadblocks for doing something we enjoy as adults.
When at the end of the day, the reason we all ride our bikes is because its fun. That’s why I love the Gravel Roll so much, it really represents that vibe of “hey, I don’t care if I’m not the strongest rider, or the most experienced, or have the proper gear, I love riding my bike, seeing pretty views, and having a good time with like minded people.” And that to me, is the true “spirit of gravel” or whatever, it’s not 100 mile rides or ten thousand dollar bikes. It’s getting outside, pedaling your bike down a new path, and having fun at your own pace. And if your pace is putting the hammer down, then that’s sick, and if it’s just a nice cruise and an excuse to have a few beers, then that’s sick too.
Riding is for everyone, and it’s all about having fun and feeling good. Hope all you rollers have a great holiday season and a very happy New Year!
