3 Ginger Snaps

This was a big deal for Arden:

It was our first family bike ride. We covered about 6km in total. Stopped several times for water. And spent about an hour chilling out in a park at the halfway point.

Between the time we left on the ride and the time we returned, it would have been possible to measure Arden’s considerable development as a cyclist. For starters, she crossed several minor and one major intersection. She peddled a long way without complaint. She navigated her share of pedestrians and curves in the trail. And, about 1/3 of the way in to the ride, She almost took out an old lady using a walker. I will never forget how quickly that poor woman sped up her own pace and made like mad for the side of the path as we watched Arden accelerate down the first medium sized hill she had ever really encountered. Turns out that the guy who was teaching her how to ride a bike hadn’t quite spent enough time working with her to consolidate the habit of pressing down on the pedal back break so that she could learn how to slow herself down in these situations. As she gained speed down the hill, she did what she learned to do when riding her glider bike: she put her feet down on the pavement to try and find some traction. Gravity had other plans. She started to wobble, the other park users started to take notice. The old lady started to hustle. And possible outcomes started to flash before my eyes.

In these situations as a parent, it seems normal for us to jump to the catastrophic consequences. Gravel filled cuts. Missing teeth. She never rides a bike again due to the emotional trauma of knocking a woman using a walker over the side of the trail and down into the creek bed… Apparently calling out “back brake! Back brake!” Wasn’t quite enough in the coaching department. But hey – you can’t prepare your kids for every downhill. Sometimes they need to learn how to ride out the momentum and bring themselves in for a bumpy landing.

And, despite the fact that I put her out on the trail that day overconfident and underprepared, that’s just what Arden did. There were a few tears and a few cross words at the bottom of the hill. From Arden: that was scary! I’m not riding my bike any more! (spoken with as much pout as she could muster; she walked her bike for the next 200m and then came to her senses and got back on to ride). And from Charlotte: Dad! How come you didn’t teach her how to go down hills!?! (Spoken with as much indignation as she could muster; I had to concede she had a valid point).

It’s a week later and Arden is completely enthralled with her bicycle and her new skills. We went on two short rides this weekend and it appears that there was no real psychological scaring that took place during those tense moments when we were all envisioning a pleasant afternoon turned terribly sour. Although Hil claims to have earned a few more grey hairs…