Not too long after I got my Spyder bike, my dad and I were out in the driveway when he told me he wanted to ride the bike. I don't remember if he had just adjusted something, or had fixed a flat, or if he just wanted to ride it.
Daddy was not a small guy. He stood slightly over six feet tall, and probably weighed about 185, at the time. To say that he was out of scale with the 20-inch wheeled bike is an understatement. He pretty much dwarfed it.
He took off down the driveway, turned left onto Shacklett Drive, and rode up the steep hill past the culvert. I was amazed. Try as I might, I could not ride up that hill, but Daddy went up it like it was nothing.
I remember thinking to myself that, if I could ride a bike that easily, I would ride all the time.
Now, I pretty much do ride all the time. I have to give Daddy credit for being one of the inspirations for my love of riding.
We lost Daddy on July 14, 2010. He's been on my mind, today, because this would have been his 74th birthday, if he was still here. It makes me feel pretty bad that I forgot to call him on his birthday, last year.