My childhood home sat on top of a small hill…not even sure if you could call it a hill. At the bottom of the hill ran a small creek that ran through the neighborhood. That creek brought many hours of pleasure. One could spend hours floating toy boats down the stream or catching a jar full of tadpoles. You could also be startled by a snake slithering by. Although it would dry up occasionally during the summer it could also flood the front yard. The creek was wide and deep enough that everyone had small bridges for crossing…bridges made of wood or different kind of stones or bricks. Ours was made of stone with uneven edges. That stone bridge with uneven edges played an important part in my bike riding experiences as a child.
A bike is a ticket to freedom especially as a kid. It gets you to people and places fast. When you first are learning to ride a 26″ inch bike you feel wobbly. Imagine beginning your ride at the top of a small hill on a bike that is almost your height and on a gravel drive. Imagine a uneven stone bridge waiting for you at the bottom of that small hill. You can pick up some speed going down a hill, no matter how small it is. Let’s just say there were many trips to the ER to get my forehead stitched up. I still can find the “battle wounds” on my body when I look closely enough. I did finally conquer the hill, the gravel drive, and the stone bridge. The victory might have been slow in coming but what a great resource I can use in Reading Workshop. That’s another day’s story.