I cherish the feeling of riding my bike in the fresh early summer mornings, before it got hot, riding to swimming lessons at the public pool. The cool air on my body, my strong legs working, the ca-chunk, ca-chunk of the cracks in the sidewalk under my tires. I can still smell and see those mornings.

I was a fat kid, and life at home was even harder than life at school. Riding the bike was freedom and joy. I still feel that way.

I got my first two-wheeler when I was 7, that blue Schwinn that many of us in the US had. I developed an aversion to banana-seat boys' bikes after riding one straight into a tree later that year! YIKES! It is wonderful to read these stories. Happy memories.