Biker Boys

Chris has been riding his two wheel bike without training wheels for most of the summer. It was quite a big deal when we took the training wheels off earlier this year, as I described here.

Tommy has just graduated from his tricycle to a small two-wheeler with training wheels. Wanting to be just like Chris, he has moved to the two-wheeler much sooner than Chris did. He’s still a bit tentative, but he’s working at it. As I’ve mentioned before, he’s a tenacious kid – when he wants something, he does whatever he can to get it. And right now what he wants is to ride a two-wheeler like Chris.

So last night we’re out in the driveway. Chris is zooming up and down the sidewalk. We live on a corner lot and he’s flying around the corner, cutting across the yard, even jumping the curb occasionally. I’m keeping an eye on him, but he’s pretty comfortable and isn’t trying to do anything too crazy…yet.

Tommy is riding slowly up and down the driveway. Our driveway has a slight downhill slope from the garage to the street. He’s still a bit tentative going down, and he needs a bit of a push going up. But he’s working at it. I’m proud of him.

After a bit Chris says, “Dad, can we ride around the block?” I consider this for a moment. The loop he’s talking about is not quite half a mile, slightly up hill one way and downhill coming back. It’s residential, very little traffic, and Tommy would be on the sidewalk the whole way. We walk this fairly often so both boys know the way and are comfortable with the trip.

But I’m not sure Tommy can make it on the bike.

So I ask Tommy, “Do you want ride around the block?”

Without hesitation he says, “Sure.”

So we head out. Chris rides ahead, in the street, occasionally circling back to Tommy and me. I’m walking behind Tommy, who’s pedaling slowly up the sidewalk. About every ten feet or so, he hits his brakes and comes to a complete stop.

We’re going uphill.

“Tommy, why are you stopping?”

“I’m going too fast,” he says.

The truth is we are barely creeping along, moving very slowly uphill on the sidewalk. He continues to do this, going about ten feet or so and slamming on his brakes. It’s gets maddening. Start, stop. Start, stop. Start, stop.

I’m trying to be patient. He’s just learning, after all. And really, why am I in such a hurry? It’s a beautiful fall evening. We’re outside, having fun. Chris is having a great time, riding back and forth, enjoying the freedom of his two wheel bike unencumbered with training wheels and without Dad hovering over him. Tommy is diligently working, testing his brakes, learning how to ride. And I should appreciate the fact that he is being so careful, making sure he is in control.

I take a deep breath, relax.

“Tommy, you’re doing a great job. Are you having fun?”

He turns his head, looks up at me, smiling. “This is great, Dad!” he says with a big smile.

See? I should just chill out.

So we continue up the hill, eventually getting to the top, and round the corner. It’s flat up here, the top of the loop. Tommy continues to creep along, slowly, stopping every ten feet or so.

We make the turn again and are now heading back toward home, on the far side of the block. From here there is a downhill section that is a bit steeper that what we came up on the other side. The slope on the way up was longer and more gradual; this side going down is steeper and shorter, with a flat run-out at the bottom.

Chris loves this part. He flies down the hill, in control, but going pretty fast.

I’m thinking Tommy will go even more slowly, stop more often than he did on the way up. Chris might ride up and down again two or three more times before Tommy gets down.

“Tommy,” I say, “be sure to use your brakes here. I’ll be right behind you all the way if you need help.”

He turns and looks up at me. “Okay, Daddy,” he says.

You know what’s coming, don’t you?

Tommy starts out slowly, but moving steadily. I’m walking just behind, waiting for him to hit the brakes.

He never does.

Instead, he picks up speed and starts to laugh. I’m walking faster now, trying to keep up. He continues to pick up speed and now I’m jogging, then sprinting down this hill as Tommy continues to roll. He’s keeping a line straight down the center of the sidewalk, clearly in control, and laughing his head off. He’s just roaring with laughter.

I’m barely keeping up, running flat out, wondering if he will suddenly hit the brakes and screech to a halt, or swerve and smack into a parked car or a mailbox. Of course, he does neither, cruising effortlessly all the way down the hill, slowing only as the sidewalk flattens out.

He eventually coasts to a halt. I catch up to him, huffing and puffing (remember, I’m old!). He has a grin a mile wide on his face. His eyes are bright, shining, and full of exhilaration.

“That was great, Dad!” he says.

“Tommy,” I say, “why didn’t you use your brakes on the way down?”

“I didn’t need to,” he says simply.

He used his brakes all the way up the hill, and not once on the way down. Go figure.

“Dad,” he says, “let’s do that again!”

It’s great to be The Family Man.