When a Bike is more than a Bike! cm#6of10

It was a thing of beauty. A master work of art and technology. A symbol of being part of the cool clique of society. And it was mine – or was it?

Over the next several posts (or so) I will share ten childhood memories
and lessons I glean for today. 


It was a thing of beauty. A master work of art and technology. A symbol of being part of the cool clique of society. And it was mine – or was it?

In my middle school years, the go-to grocery store was Giant Foods. Huge for a young tweenager. And one season, they had a give away – a sign up for a drawing that today I realize was a marketing tool. They didn’t really care about who won or who did anything. The little giveaway was a way to get addresses. I signed up – giving my parents’ address of course. My siblings also signed up.

The grand prize was a banana seat, beautiful blue bicycle. Weeks went by and I forgot all about it. Then one day, the sun was shining, the birds chirping loudly, and joy was in the air. My parents came home carrying a banana seat, beautiful blue bicycle. As I waited in anticipation, they called me over and told me I had been the winner. My name was chosen from all the others. My name was selected.

That bike began my journey into independence. Freedom on the road. The ability to ride away as far as my legs would take me. Open roads. Wind through my hair. Of course, I rarely got further than a couple of miles. (yes, yes, I realize that even today that would be taboo – too much of a fear culture in 2023!)

Later, I upgraded to a 10 speed. Not only was it an upgrade of technology, it was an upgrade to my freedom as well. I travelled outside the town limits. I loved the 9 mile loop at Prince William National Forest.

A bike is freedom.

A bike is also responsibility. Fixing the chain. Cleaning the wheels. Replacing the tires. I appreciate the lessons I learned from the bike. I wish I had learned more about mechanics – but I still claim to be mechanically challenged.

A bike can be a source of contention as well. My brothers claimed that their name was chosen. They say that our parents choose to give it to me – and that it was really someone else – them. Tough. Mom loved me more, remember?

Too many people get upset when they see others being blessed, getting something that they want. Too often we think equality means equity – that we should all be treated the same. Posh.

God controls the roll of the dice – every good and perfect thing is from above. and sometimes, people get blessed when we don’t.

Maybe I should not have rubbed it in. Maybe I could have been nicer to them. I can’t change that, but I can learn today.

A bike is often more than a bike.

It’s freedom, it’s a responsibility, it’s a teacher of ethics.


EXTRA — Here is a pic of 4 generations of Estes


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