I remember the summer that I turned 6 years old. I had just finished kindergarten and I had been campaigning for months for a two-wheeled bicycle for my birthday. Sometimes, when I wanted a really big gift, I looked through the Sears or the Montgomery Ward catalogues to find exactly what I wanted, but in the case of the bicycle, I knew exactly what I wanted. It was in the window of Gamble’s Hardware. We had two hardware stores in our town. Coast to Coast was closest to our house. To get to Gamble’s, you had to go down main street and across the highway. And there in the front window of the store was just what I wanted. It was just what I needed.

Let me explain for just a moment. I knew the difference between “want” and “need.” My father had explained it to me many times. “Want” is something that you would like to have, but you could live without. “Need” is something that you have to have in order to stay alive. You might want an electric train, but no one every died from not having an electric train. On the other hand you could die if you didn’t eat enough food. Food was a need. Electric trains were a want. But I NEEDED a bicycle.

Her is why: In my family there were only sisters before me. By the time I was six, I had a younger brother, but he was too little to ride a bike. My sisters were older and they already had their own bikes. So I learned to ride my sister’s bicycle. It was blue, and it was OK for learning to ride, but it was a GIRL’s bike. You know with the bar low in the middle. And when I rode it down the alley, Eddie, who lived a block down the alley yelled after me, “Girly girly girly, look who’s riding a girl’s bike.” And Eddie lived only one block down the alley and I had to ride two blocks down the alley to get to Dave’s place.

So I NEEDED a bicycle. I NEEDED the red bicycle that was in the window of Gamble’s Hardware Store. And I made sure that I explained to my mother and to my father how much I needed that bike.

I got that bike for my birthday. I may have gotten other things, too. Probably I did. I usually got new jeans and a cowboy shirt for my birthday so that I would have new clothes to wear for the Rodeo Parade. It was the only Sunday of the year that we were allowed to wear jeans to church. And it came just after my birthday each year. But I don’t remember any of the other gifts - only that shiny new red bicycle that I rode and rode and rode. I rode it to my father’s shop the first day. I rode it past Eddie’s house at least a dozen times that day, just to show him that I didn’t have to ride a girl’s bike any more. It was the only bike I ever owned that I didn’t buy with money that I had earned myself, but my pride of ownership was as high as with any thing I’ve ever owned.

The bicycle gave me speed. It gave me freedom. It helped me stretch out the boundaries of my world. In years to come I would be able to ride it all the way to 8-mile bridge and later all the way to McLeod, which was 16 miles up the boulder road and 16 miles down hill home.

I was thinking of that red bicycle yesterday because our grandson got his first pedal bike. There were many differences. He is only 4 years old. And he learned to ride his bike in one day. It was his first time on a pedal bike and by the end of the day he was making miles around the campground at a pace too fast for me to run. I had to ride my bicycle in order to keep up with him.

So here is an unashamed endorsement for Strider - the pedal-less bike. Our grandson got a Strider when he was two years old. He picked out a red one from the Strider retail store at the factory in Rapid City. That day he rode that little bike until he collapsed with exhaustion. It was winter and it was icy outside, but that didn’t deter him a bit. He just kept going and going and going.

It happened again yesterday. It took a couple of times around the block for him to master the basics of starting and stopping. But as soon as he got going he could ride independently. In less than an hour of riding the bike, he was able to ride without any assistance, even starting and stopping. From there, it was hop on your bike, grandpa! I had to ride to keep up. I have a speedometer that also records the miles ridden, but we didn’t take time for me to get it out of the pickup and put it on the bike. He was going full speed ahead as soon as he got on his bike. There is an old go cart track at the campground where we are staying. He rode around and around that track. I counted the laps after supper: 27 laps with no assistance from me with his riding. I just rode chase to be there if he needed me. He didn’t need me.

We raise our children to be free and independent. We want them to learn to do new things and to go beyond the limits that we were never able to overcome. But it is also a bit frightening to see them going so fast at such a young age. Freedom to ride, however, is just what he needs. Of course he needs to learn the rules of the road. He already is conscious of other bike riders and courteous to them. He has good pedestrian skills and is aware of cars. But the bike is a big step forward in his freedom. Fortunately they live in a bicycle-friendly town with many opportunities and places to ride safely.

“Wow! Grandpa! I can ride really, really fast!” Indeed he can. Indeed he can. Of course I know that he can also ride very far and one day he will go farther than I am able to follow. In the meantime, however, I’m enjoying the ride.

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