During summers at my grandparents’ Brookside Farm, I had a blue bike I named Betsy. This was the only bike of my youth because during the school year I lived in the city where because of traffic, and no one had yet heard of bike lanes, no one rode a bike.
I loved that bike and rode a lot of miles up and down the paved and dirt roads. One of my favorite destinations and turn around spots was the one room Blue School House.
Simple times – good memories – bad box permanent.
Betsy – 1950′s
That bike wasn’t a road, racing, mountain, or trail bike, and it didn’t have speeds unless you counted how fast I could pedal. It was just a bike.
Last year, I bought one of those bikes on a close-out sale at Camping World. I love it. When I tool around (mostly on flat surfaces) with the wind blowing in my face (if I’m going down hill), I feel young again (well younger) and think of all those wonderful years riding my bike at the farm.
A couple of weeks ago, my granddaughter, who had gotten too tall for her current bike, went off with her Dad to buy a new one.
Her Dad knows quite a bit about bikes especially since he just finished riding in a major bike race. It tired me out just thinking about the miles he rode, but then he is in his 30′s and is an athlete in top physical shape.
So, I was waiting to see what kind of bike they’d bring home. What would it be – road, trail, 9, 18, 30 speeds? I was surprised to see it was just a bike – absolutely beautiful – but just a bike.
My grandson, however, is not convinced this family bike riding thing is all that much fun. He’s not forgetting a recent spill at the beach that had him needing an ice bag and multiple Angry Bird band aids.
Starting to ride again at my age is a little challenging. My granddaughter can make those inclines a lot faster than I can, but she looks back, smiles and waits for me to catch up. She’s a sweetheart.
With regard to bicycles, I guess that saying about what’s old is new again is true right now.
I’m old enough to enjoy nostalgia, and I’m certainly enjoying this resurgence to a more simple time.
Photo Credits: Current good photos taken by the granddaughter. Bad photo of old photo taken by the grandmother.
