I promised during the week that we would spend as much of the weekend as possible out on the bikes. During my childhood this would have meant all weekend. As far as our kids are concerned, it turns out this means an hour. It was trying to snow, so I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.
I got kicked out of bed at 8 this morning. My other half knew I had promised the kids, and took an evil delight in reminding me.
An hour later I found myself in the garden oiling chains, pumping tires up, and tightening things up here and there. After a minute watching me expectantly, the kids completely lost interest and started running riot around the garden.
Finally a call of “come on then!” signalled much strapping on of helmets, and calls for their trusty/rusty mounts. Putting their bikes away doesn’t seem to have sunken in yet.
The main hope for the weekend was to get our middle daughter - Little Miss 6 - to ride a bike. She tried at the end of last summer without stabilizers, but didn’t quite have the confidence or the length of limb to do it.
We all trecked across to the childrens playpark on the green outside our house - I reasoned that the cushioned floor would save her during the inevitable crashes.
So. “Pedal half way up. No - DON’T put both feet on the pedals while you’re stood still. Now remember - it’s just like a bit scooter that you can sit down on. Get ready to push hard on the pedals.”
For the first few minutes I dashed around the playground holding the back of the saddle as she pedalled, didn’t look where she was going, and failed to lean the bike around corners.
Little by little over the course of a few minutes she started to put it all together - pedalling, looking where she was going, and leaning.
I noticed by now that W had arrived with the video camera.
Okay. Now or never. I helped her start off, ran with her holding the saddle, and took my hands away - expecting a huge crash within seconds… it didn’t happen.
In the space of fifteen minutes, our little girl could ride a bike. She couldn’t get it started on her own, and she had no concept of brakes yet, but she could randomly wobble across the playpark.
Fifteen minutes later she could start on her own, pedal like a maniac, lean into corners, and crash spectactularly. Brakes are still a problem.
The entire mad half hour was accompanied by me bellowing encouragement and praise at her - clapping, cheering, and being a very, very proud Dad.
I have never seen anybody learn to ride a bike so fast. I thought our eldest did well at two days… at a year younger her little sister just did it in half an hour. Sure, she crashes every twenty hards, but she keeps getting back on, and she’s not crying.
Fantastic.