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I was six years old on Christmas day. My gift, my first bike, was also the bike I rode until I went to college, so it was too big for me and there were no training wheels. My father gave me a push down the street and I was thrilled as I went silently gliding down the road.

As I approached the t-intersection at the end of the road I heard my father telling me to apply the brakes but I realized I had no idea how to get off the bike if it were to stop. I turned to the left to go into the safety of a grassy yard but by chance a tree jumped in front of me, stopping my my bike for me and knocking me unconscious. I have never lost that initial thrill of gliding over pavement on a bicycle since that first attempt and still ride as often as I can.
 
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