learning to ride without training wheels

A new bike: $75
Training wheels to learn how to ride it: $12
Riding without them: Priceless.
A child’s first two-wheeled bike ride captures the angst, the joy, the exhilaration of growing up.
Our first did not get the option of training wheels. His dad held the bike steady as the child climbed up on the seat and grabbed the bicycle handle bars with a death grip begging, “Don’t let go, Daddy!”
Daddy did not let go. Day after day he trotted alongside the bike, keeping it from falling as the two made their way down the street. That child provided his father several afternoons of exercise before he rode away alone.
His brother followed exactly the opposite path and not only insisted on the security of training wheels but refused to consider riding without them. We could see him balancing the bike, but the thought of falling off the bike terrified him beyond his ability to trust us that he could ride without falling.
We left the training wheels on until they were thread bare. Finally, under the duress of keeping up with the other kids, a training wheel broke.
I refused to buy another one.
“I know you can ride without the it,” I insisted.
He argued with me, certain that he needed the trainers.
I promised to run alongside and hold the seat of the bike while he tested his ability to balance and pedal. Grumbling, complaining, making sure that I knew he thought I was the absolutely worst parent in the world, he swung onto the bike and began pedaling. He did not fall, he pedaled just as strongly as he had for weeks and quickly left me far behind. At the corner, he stopped, turned around and came back, his face glowing.
He loved it. He could not believe how great it was to not have the training wheels. For the rest of that day and the next he pedaled all around the neighborhood reveling in his freedom from the drag of training wheels and a protective parent’s touch.
When it was his younger brother’s turn, he shrugged away the idea of training wheels. He asked his Dad to help him get started down the road. He didn’t want or need much help. Sure he fell a couple times, but in short order he retired his father and joined the other bikers.
Recently, my son became the daddy holding the bike. He captured his own child’s right of passage to a two-wheeler on his weblog http://www.openweblog.com/~hexmode:
We went to the Mt. Gretna Rail Trail today. Ginger and Basil brought their bikes. The rest of us walked.
At some point, Ginger was off her bike and I asked Violet if she wanted to try to ride. She hopped on. Ever the mother, Alexis reminded me to make sure she wouldn’t fall.
I held on to the bike and Violet for a little bit, then just the bike. Then, I just put my hand beside her shoulder. Finally, I let go completely. Bam! Down she fell.
“Want to try again?” And she was back on. This time she stayed on. A couple of other mothers who happened to be riding past at that moment cheered.
Violet was ecstatic. “Can we take the training wheels off my bike now?”
Violet knew she was ready to solo and everyone who saw agreed and celebrated with her.
Just as we all celebrate whenever a loved one – wobbly as they may be – hops up and rides off alone without our help.