Two-Wheeled Teacher

It has been a perennial goal for me over the past 4 or 5 years: to give my kids a healthy, active Dad.

It has often been a goal that didn't actually materialize. But thanks to a kick-start from Ab last year, I have been fairly consistent for about a year in running a few times a week - until lately.

Lately I have been trying to transition my practice of running - which I just cannot seem to grow to love ... to biking.

Thanks in part to a my brother-in-law's renewed interest in biking, we have frequented the "Silver Comet Trail" a lot more this summer than in the past. And over the past month, I have mapped out a bicycle cycle that takes in some pretty scenic areas near our home in "the country".

My wife grew up in this area and rode her bicycle all over these back roads, but some of the roads are narrow and are now a little too busy for my taste at times.

But I am enjoying my riding time. After finishing about a mile of busy road, my regular route takes me to a much quieter setting. Suddenly, in my mind, I am just a kid again, trying to eak a little more adventure out of the waining days of summer. I'm peddling my stingray blue "Western Flier" complete with high handle-bars and a banana-split seat (adorned with "STP", "King of the Road" and "Wynn's" stickers).

Every trip seems to bring back a smorgasbord of memories - I guess because I am taking in the sights and sounds from the same rolling vantage point that I took them in as a child.

The smell of sweet- but souring grass that was mowed the day before.

The occasional soft puddles of tar along the road - now cooling in the setting sun.

A cow raising her head to watch the strange sight of a boy - now a man - passing by on a bicycle.

The symphony of God's tiny creation - tree frogs, crickets, cicadas and many more!

Barbed wire fences and fences that protect vegetable gardens... the latter of which are often armed with Walmart bags to ward of would-be-sneak-thieves.

Miniature crevices and canyons alongside the road eroded by summer rains.

The musty, dusty smell of hay, all cut and waiting to be bailed.

The random aroma of various wildflowers and weeds volunteering along the side of the road.

And the yap of dogs.

When I was a kid - you always knew where the bad dogs lived. Those were the houses by which you peddled at great speeds or you lifted your vulnerable ankles to the height of the middle bar on your bike.

I have had very few dogs to actually come near - but some bark in a menacing manner from behind a fence or storm door.

This brief period has awakened memories that haven't been stirred in quite some time.

Bicycling is a wonderful thing - and for a kid, it is a necessary rite of passage. But I think that - like most every thing else - we've organized and sanitized the adventure right out of the practice. I think kids need some time to just loaf around on their wheels - not necessarily going any where in particular.

The opportunity for creativity and the absence of artificial entertainment might just result in that "bicycle" suddenly being transformed into a fiery steed or a souped-up motorcycle. Before you know it, said kid might even prefer to be outside riding that bike . . .

. . . and breathing in all those wonderful sights and sounds of the last vestiges of summer...

I've seen it happen.