My dad taught me how to ride a bike. I loved my training wheels but there was one day when I was 5 and my older brother Brian said it’s time Leah and my dad took the wheels off and that was it. I never put them back on. I remember I almost fell at first but my dad kept running with me until he let go and I didn’t even know he did that until  I looked back and he was in the distance. I was so excited and I kept riding around in our cul-de-sac and then he came and grabbed me because I was still a little wobbly. Miss those days!




My father helped me learn how to ride a bike. He attached what was then known as, ‘Training Wheels’ to the back wheel. What that did was make it impossible to fall over if you lost your balance. Some of the people in my mother’s seniors home could use those today. But I digress. One Christmas my parents bought me a brand new bike that I insisted I take for a ride immediately. After trying to ride around the cul-de-sac in 3 feet of snow I realized spring would probably be a better idea. My father would run behind me holding the seat until maximum speed was reached and balance was achieved…for about 30 yards when I took a sudden left and I ended up in my neighbours garden. Dad had a good laugh. It took a few more tries before I could master the art of bike riding on my own.