Submitted by Natalie Mo; 4th/5th grade 10/08
This entry relates to the past.
Categories: Unforgettable experiences, bicycles.
 
I was on my way to the school blacktop, on the weekend, with my dad, my bike, my helmet, and my pink little tennis. I was five learning to ride my bike, my little “graduating to a big girl” thing. When we got there, I mounted my bike, I wouldn’t let my dad let go so he held on to the back of the seat and I started pedaling. I was going so fast (probably because my dad was also pushing). It took two seconds to realize no one was behind me. I looked back, no one was behind me, I looked back in front of me… “NO HANDS!!!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. I screamed. I lost concentration. I fell off my bike. My dad started laughing. I wasn’t hurt just a few scrapes and scratches. When we finally finished we went home, him with a hysterical smile, and me an unsuccessful frown. It was a great day just not as great as I expected. That was the worst bike lesson ever, but it paid off later (now) I know how to ride my bike; I can go wherever I want to go (with parent supervision but its better than going on a trailer bike). I love living in Davis, the bike town. Do you?