A Father’s day tribute to my cycling dad

[ciao_bella]

My father was passionate about two things, bicycling and hockey. Growing up, it was impossible for me to escape getting drawn in to these two favorites of his, and besides, I was a daddy’s girl who tagged along with him wherever he went. My dad taught me how to ride a bike, and we often went on long bike rides, just him and I. (My sister was the mommy’s girl.) After our rides, we’d wipe down our bikes, he taught me how to keep my bike shining and running smoothly, even taught me to change a flat when I was fairly young.

My parents immigrated to the Detroit area from Italy after they were married in 1948. Shortly after they settled in and purchased a house together, my sister was born. Then a few years later, I came along. He was a barber, owned his own shop, and employed a few others. In the summers, on Sundays, he’d race in the amateur bike races on Belle Isle. He loved bicycle racing, and he was very proud of his track bike that he had imported from Italy. This photo of him is unfortunately the only photo I have of my dad on his bicycle.

Every three years my parents would go back to Italy to visit their family members over there, and when he’d go back to his hometown of Treviso (about 30 miles north of Venice) he loved to participate in one of his hometown bike races as a referee.

My dad died in 1996 after a battle with cancer. He was a good man, and I miss him dearly. He taught me many things, but my love for and fascination with bikes was a gift from him. I wish he were here today so we could go for a bike ride together.

Ciao




Here's a picture of him years later in Treviso Italy refereeing at a hometown bike race: