One of the great joys of growing up in Indiana was riding bikes. I know boys ride bikes elsewhere, but this is My story :) Riding bikes was second only to playing baseball. Baseball was sacred…we were all Cubs fans!
Back to bikes. We would attach a playing card at the back wheel so it would hit the spokes. I can see you are not impressed but we thought it sounded like a motorcycle. We jumped ramps in the street like Evil Knievel (if you don’t know who he was, ask someone older). We had races. The great challenge was seeing who could ride the most circles in Fergeson’s driveway. I think I held the title at 300 times. The Guinness Book of Records wouldn’t come so we told our friends and family. I think that record stands because everyone else moved on. Who wants to waste their time going around in a circle? Where is the dedication?
I read a story recently about two boys in Indiana who rode bikes together. They were going by a cemetery where a fallen soldier was being laid to rest. The boys approached as they begin playing Taps. Without communicating with each other, they laid their bikes down at the same time and stood at attention. At the conclusion of the music, they hopped back on their bikes and rode on. Little did they know a neighbor saw what was happening and took their picture.
In an age where some picket at funerals of fallen soldiers or police, these boys paid their respects. I would say what they did was more important than riding a bike in circles.
The original story can be seen at Good News Network
