I’ve shared a few photos from
my youth, and there aren’t too many left. I have many more pictures from my
childhood, but they are all only snapshots in my head, vivid memories of a time
long past. Today’s picture is of Daisy.
Growing up, I never thought
of us as being poor. We had everything we ever wanted. We went on a camping
vacation every year, Mom drove a decent car, Dad had a truck. I wore mostly
hand-me-down clothes because that’s just how it was. And I didn’t have a new
bike until I was a teen-ager because my old bike worked just fine.
Her name was Daisy. I think
Dad picked her up at the dump. She wasn’t fancy but she had all I needed - two
wheels, a frame, a seat and handlebars. I’m pretty sure she even had fenders.
Her original color was tan or orange or something else non-descript, but one
summer I found some old paint in the garage and colored her cream.
From Day 1 she had a problem
with her chain. It slipped more than it stayed on. I knew nothing about bikes
at the time, but in retrospect, it should have been an easy fix. Dad was
incredibly mechanically-inclined so why the chain could never be made to stay
on is beyond me. Maybe because I never complained about it. Daisy was small
enough that my feet just reached the ground, so I would push along without
using the pedals. As her chain became more persnickety, I was growing taller so
my feet hit the ground that much easier.
She would always take me
where I wanted to go and since we lived in the country, I rode her mostly
through our trails in the woods. Occasionally I would let her take me down the road
down the hill past our house – a scary proposition, as a single-speed bike with
no chain meant a bike with no brakes.
Ahh, but I was a kid. We knew
no fear back then. All we knew was the freedom of summer and having two-wheels
under us.
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