I remember riding my blue tricycle all throughout the house all of the time, before beginning kindergarten. Whenever my mother stopped hearing me riding my tricycle, before too long, she would ask me about what I was doing.
Then one day, just before my sixth birthday, I woke up, and my tricycle was not at the foot of my bed. I jumped up and began to frantically look for my tricycle. My mother told me that it was too old for me, and that she had given it away to the neighbor's kid across the street. I tried to hold back the tears, but unfortunately, the pain was just too much to bear. The tears quickly began to flow. My mother tried to comfort me by saying that she would get it back, if I really wanted a "little boys" tricycle that badly. I told her to get it back for me no matter what, and that I didn't care if the tricycle was for little boys or not.
The next morning, I woke up with a brand new red bicycle at the foot of my bed. I rubbed my eyes to make sure that they were focused. Was I really looking at a "big boys" bicycle?....Was it really for me?....Was I now a "big boy" at the age of six?
My dad spent the entire weekend, teaching me how to ride my new bike. From Friday evening to Sunday morning, we were outside, in the backyard, going round and round, until finally, Sunday Morning, I got it!
Once I started to ride by myself completely balanced, my father took the training wheels off my bike. Before the next week was over, I was riding around the block on the sidewalk. Suddenly, I was further away from home than ever before, on my own, and just having the time of my life!
This was my first taste of independence. Having fun independently is one reason I now enjoy solo riding. I truly believe, it all came from that first day of bicycling on my own around the block.
Since then, I've been around a block or two!