This attached photo was taken when I was about 6. This was MY first bike. We had family bikes, bikes we all rode, but this one was my bike. My first.

My father brought it home because someone had abandoned it (aka thrown it out) along the railroad tracks at Griffiss Airforce base where he worked. When he brought it home my older brother Dan---who the bike was intended for---was not impressed and actually thought it was ugly and ridiculous. It had thin white tires, English style hand breaks and the bike was a foreign bike. He hated it. I could not contain how much I loved it so I begged and pleaded to get my father to patch the tires for me even though everyone said, "But you are way too small to ride this thing!"

As you can see, the top bar is definitely too tall for my little legs so the ONLY way I could ride it was I had to start off by standing on our porch then step out over and straddle the bike and start to peddle, then ride around till I found a neighbor's porch of the right height so I could ride up to it, stop, and put my leg onto the porch in order to get off the bike without falling.

I loved this bike. It was a 20 inch bike. Which is pretty small. You can see how small I am by the fact I am basically standing BEHIND it and it comes up pretty high on me. You may be able to sense how happy I am and proud of this bike. (Notice the patched knees, I think there were many times I did not quite make it successfully to a neighbor's porch).

Recently on Craigs List I found a bike that resembles the look and feel of this bike in so many ways. (it is the second attached photo). I had to get it and I have indeed been riding it and it has transported me back to that joyous six year old you see in this photo.

1st loves are hard to forget

My dad bought my sister and I matching purple bikes from Sears. My parents split up when I was round 7 or 8, so it had to have been before then. My dad taught us how to ride in the alley behind our house. I have a distinct memory of the day I first road without training wheels. My sister was an insecure person even back then and was always trying to one up me, but she was scared to have her training wheel taken off and it took her much longer to learn to ride without them. I remember thinking "Ha! Ha! You still need training wheels."

YES! I recall thinking the same about my siblings (I had five siblings). We were separated by those who needed training wheels and those who did NOT! Ha!

heartwarming! this forum needs a like button

Carbon Frame ?

Nice, thanks for sharing!!

My dad had an old English 3 speed with 24" wheels. Made me love sturmey archer forever. That 3 speed was the bomb.

I never used training wheels. My family had been trying to teach me how to ride the usual way of hold on to the seat and run along side, then let go. I think they all knew I knew how to ride but I wouldn't do it on my own. Finally my dad took me outside to teach me how to ride. He simply said, "get on your bike and ride to the end of the sidewalk," and I did. I was actually amazed that I was able to ride my bike without assistance just because he told me to.

One of these days whenever I find that box of old photos in our garage, I'll scan a photo of me on my old Western Flyer banana seat bike and post it on this site.

I learned the same way . No training wheels and a bike that was to big for me . I seem to remember picking myself up quite a few times that first day till I got the hang of it. I was riding on the grass in my grandparents yard .

My son started out with training wheels but didn't really have them on long. He had a razor-type scooter that he would ride around, often with his foot up and keeping balance, so I knew it wouldn't be hard for him to ride a bike. So one day he decided he wanted to ride without training wheels, so I took the training wheels off and we went to a big yard where he could ride in the grass, and after a couple of short rides, he was able to go on his own. Now he's outgrowing the second bike he's had, so might have to find him a larger one.

This is my first bike, the second year I rode it. The first year, I had to step on the pedal and push with the other leg before reaching from behind to go over the saddle. Easy, once you get the hang of it... (said Dad, who didn't want to nuy me a junior size bike and an adult size bike two years later...) Took quite a few falls and scraped knees before I got the hang of it!!..

The funny thing is that I never once saw my dad ride a bike. I do remember him telling me how he and kids in the neighborhood (South Philly Italian neighborhood) would make "scooters" out of 2x4s, old roller skate wheels and wooden produce boxes.

Nice story!
Makes me remember of my first bike... I was about 11 and inherited a bike from my uncle. It was a big bike, with 28" wheels and a big frame. I did like you, had to find a place to stand and straddle the bike, then another to dismount!

Nice story.! The pride and happiness certainly does show in your face.

I just read--in Wired magazine of all places--that you should ride a bike like an 11 year old. Just ride for fun and to get where you want to go!

I remember when I was 10 or 11, riding with a couple friends on the square mile of roads around our house in suburban Detroit. I remember that when I was almost home, I slid out on wet blacktop and was covered with black goo and gravel from head to toe. An old man rinsed me off with his hose, but I still needed a kerosene bath when I got home.

But that mishap didn't spoil it for me. I've had a lot of accomplishments in my life, but none made me prouder than that 4 mile ride with no adults and no real clear idea of where we were going.

(For those of you who know Detroit--11 Mile Rd. to Dequindre to 12 Mile to John R. At that time, in the mid-1960s, there were even a couple farmhouses still standing along the route!)

I wish I had a picture of me with the only bike my parents ever bought me. I was 6 years old when I got a bike for Christmas. It was a 26", 3-speed with hand brakes. To get started riding, I had to lean the bike over, almost to the ground, throw a leg over the top bar to the up pedal, then jump up with the leg on the ground while pushing down on the pedal. I can remember running into the wire fence around the yard and sometimes Dad's car to stop. By the end of that first summer, I had mastered the art of stopping without hitting any thing. I rode that bike everywhere. I was still riding it as a high school senior, when one day I popped a wheelie and the front tire came off on the way down. The resulting crash turned the bike into a pretezel, it was on concrete.

So true. The child mind!


I have been riding with the child mind for quite some time and always appreciate others' discussing their child mind riding and childhood experiences. I do know my bicycles went from an open cockpit aeroplane to a stallion to a sports car in a mere flash of a thought. I enjoy the sense of flying that my bicycles give me and like to play when I get to parking lots or open areas. It almost demands "playing". And yes the early years of exploration on a bicycle are unparalleled in terms of their mark on our psychie and our memory bank.