How the heck did we survive as kids??
My mom gave me her bicycle last week.
It took a while to get it, but last week it was finally mine (taking up space in my kitchen at the moment, until I clear away the boxes in the living room to make a parking place for it).
Several years ago my brother had bought it for her -- a very nice, lower-end mountain bike. She evidently hadn't ridden it much, because the tires still had the little rubber thready things hanging off the sides. She'd told me many months ago that I could have it when she wasn't able to ride it any more, but it almost didn't survive my brother's Slash-N-Burn housecleaning process. (He'd been helping Mom clear out the clutter of years of pack-rat accumulation, in preparation for her upcoming Death and Subsequent Property Dispersal.) Meanwhile my car was having trouble (of the not-starting kind) and so I inquired about the bike, thinking it could be an acceptable alternate form of transportation to and from work. Turns out my brother gave it away.
When I reminded her that she had promised it to me, she felt bad about the fact that it had gone elsewhere, but fortunately the new owner gave it back. Hence its presence in my kitchen now.
Trouble was, since it had sat unused for years in my mom's living room, the inner tubes and tires were now flat and shredded with dry rot. So off I go to the local bike store to buy new tires.
Gads.
Tires of all shapes, sizes, and treads greeted me. The ever-helpful sales person presented me with what he guaranteed were The Perfect Tire for me, being all-purpose, able to go moderately off-road but still not unwieldy on-road, and Kevlar-lined to boot (to resist those pesky thorns and construction nails that one frequently encounters in the Denver streets.) I took his word for it.
And I also get a headlight/tail-light set, since I will no doubt be out after sundown (seeing as how I work nights and all), and a nice medium-heavy-duty bike lock as well.
Didn't get a helmet, though.
Which brings me to the subject of, well, My Subject: How the heck did we survive our childhoods??
Time was, we'd just hop on a bike and go. I spent a good percentage of my childhood and adolescence on bicycles of various shapes and sizes, from my first little-red-bike-with-training-wheels, up to my green-glitter-banana-seat-and-long-curved-like-African-antelope-horns middle bike (the height of bicycle fashion at the time, believe it or not....), finishing up with my gen-U-wine 10-speed-with-curved-down-handlebars adult bike. Never once did I use a helmet, or padding of any sort. Nor did anyone else of my acquaintance, from adults & other parents to my friends-and-assorted-relatives. Yet somehow we all survived to make it to adulthood, despite the inevitable scrapes, spills, and wipe-outs along the way. (I remember my most spectacular wipe-out, when I came around a corner at top speed, hit the dirt road, and kept sliding even after my bike came to an immediate crashing stop. BAD case of "road-rash," that....)
Now, though, you have to wear a bike helmet, not to mention having every conceivable appendage and joint angle swaddled in heavy padding. And if your kid is out on a bike without any of this, you are sent up on child-neglect charges, or at least chewed out and sneered at in the local media.
Don't get me wrong -- helmets and padding are a good idea, and no doubt prevent many injuries whether serious or minor. But LOTS of activities in life have ~some~ inherent danger. Heck, as the saying goes, one can get killed just crossing the street. But when is "enough" too much? Why ~can't~ one just jump on a bike and go? Isn't that what is so freeing about bikes? Instant and convenient transportation, for anyone?
Maybe we'll just end up having to wear helmets and padding in order to cross the street.
It took a while to get it, but last week it was finally mine (taking up space in my kitchen at the moment, until I clear away the boxes in the living room to make a parking place for it).
Several years ago my brother had bought it for her -- a very nice, lower-end mountain bike. She evidently hadn't ridden it much, because the tires still had the little rubber thready things hanging off the sides. She'd told me many months ago that I could have it when she wasn't able to ride it any more, but it almost didn't survive my brother's Slash-N-Burn housecleaning process. (He'd been helping Mom clear out the clutter of years of pack-rat accumulation, in preparation for her upcoming Death and Subsequent Property Dispersal.) Meanwhile my car was having trouble (of the not-starting kind) and so I inquired about the bike, thinking it could be an acceptable alternate form of transportation to and from work. Turns out my brother gave it away.
When I reminded her that she had promised it to me, she felt bad about the fact that it had gone elsewhere, but fortunately the new owner gave it back. Hence its presence in my kitchen now.
Trouble was, since it had sat unused for years in my mom's living room, the inner tubes and tires were now flat and shredded with dry rot. So off I go to the local bike store to buy new tires.
Gads.
Tires of all shapes, sizes, and treads greeted me. The ever-helpful sales person presented me with what he guaranteed were The Perfect Tire for me, being all-purpose, able to go moderately off-road but still not unwieldy on-road, and Kevlar-lined to boot (to resist those pesky thorns and construction nails that one frequently encounters in the Denver streets.) I took his word for it.
And I also get a headlight/tail-light set, since I will no doubt be out after sundown (seeing as how I work nights and all), and a nice medium-heavy-duty bike lock as well.
Didn't get a helmet, though.
Which brings me to the subject of, well, My Subject: How the heck did we survive our childhoods??
Time was, we'd just hop on a bike and go. I spent a good percentage of my childhood and adolescence on bicycles of various shapes and sizes, from my first little-red-bike-with-training-wheels, up to my green-glitter-banana-seat-and-long-curved-like-African-antelope-horns middle bike (the height of bicycle fashion at the time, believe it or not....), finishing up with my gen-U-wine 10-speed-with-curved-down-handlebars adult bike. Never once did I use a helmet, or padding of any sort. Nor did anyone else of my acquaintance, from adults & other parents to my friends-and-assorted-relatives. Yet somehow we all survived to make it to adulthood, despite the inevitable scrapes, spills, and wipe-outs along the way. (I remember my most spectacular wipe-out, when I came around a corner at top speed, hit the dirt road, and kept sliding even after my bike came to an immediate crashing stop. BAD case of "road-rash," that....)
Now, though, you have to wear a bike helmet, not to mention having every conceivable appendage and joint angle swaddled in heavy padding. And if your kid is out on a bike without any of this, you are sent up on child-neglect charges, or at least chewed out and sneered at in the local media.
Don't get me wrong -- helmets and padding are a good idea, and no doubt prevent many injuries whether serious or minor. But LOTS of activities in life have ~some~ inherent danger. Heck, as the saying goes, one can get killed just crossing the street. But when is "enough" too much? Why ~can't~ one just jump on a bike and go? Isn't that what is so freeing about bikes? Instant and convenient transportation, for anyone?
Maybe we'll just end up having to wear helmets and padding in order to cross the street.