I loved riding my bike up and down the road and still do. When I was allowed to ride on the road it was gravel. I still have scares on my knees to prove it. As you can see I have the training wheels on. I road in the driveway for a couple weeks until I was brave enough to ask Daddy to take them off. Mom would help me in the afternoons to balance myself and after a few days I was on my own.
Finally, our road was blacktopped and I was riding in style. My brother Gary and I use to ride every evening. Up and down and up and down. We were only allowed to ride from the corner post that separated John D's property from Betty Rothring's and then to the top of the hill. We had to stay in eye sight of Mom and Dad. We use to take old maid cards and pin them to the spokes with clothes pins to make a clicking noise. Boy we thought we were cool.
Every now and then we ask if we could ride down the hill. Being able to go down the hill was a big deal. We would let loose of the handlebars and coast with the wind blowing in our face. It was like-look Mom no hands!! Once we got to the small bridge we always had to park our bikes and check out the creek. Wasn't much of a creek now that I think back. But it did have a bit of water in it. We always made a point to throw a few rocks in.
Now days as I ride I still go to the corner post and the top of the hill. No need to go any farther. I stopped one day and looked down at the old bridge and could see us still. I wonder how many miles I rode all those years. Riding till Mom called us in. Loved those days, wouldn't mind going back one evening......
