My first bike was a second or third or fourth hand, heavy, fat-tired bike that had been repainted an awful turquoise color. It was much too big for me, and I am ashamed to admit that I pitched a fit when I got it and never rode it. I'm sure my parents thought me a terribly ungrateful child, since it was all they could afford and they did their best, but that wasn't good enough for me. I have a very clear mental picture of that bike leaning against the back wall of the garage, never being ridden by anyone.

I rode my sister's Schwinn instead, which was also too big for me, but it wasn't as heavy and I could manage it--had to stand up to ride it and the seat was always stabbing me in the back, as someone else mentioned.

I got a newspaper route when I was about 11 or 12, and saved my money to buy a candy apple red girls stingray, which I loved. I guess my fascination with red bikes has been with me for almost 40 years.