Growing old is for the birds. When I consider the alternative, its a blessing in disguise. To repeat the rock singer Grace Slick, which is not verbatim, ‘When you are young and good looking, you don’t know anything. So you should be seen and not heard. When you are old and your body is falling apart, you have achieved much wisdom in old age, and you should be heard and not seen.

One of the reasons I suppose she retired from singing at age 47. Being wealthy enough to afford it helps and she is also a great artist who draws other famous artists and paints in her studio.

Back to my Topic.

Learning how to ride a two-wheel bike for me was not holding on to my loving supportive Mother’s apron. We lived down in an area known as the Dock in Trepassey. I am told the trains parked there in the 30’s when they did the run to St. John’s from Trepassey.

Now the Sand Road was over by the breakwater. Same one that is constantly being bashed by the high seas now going to the Lower Cove. My cousin Jim told me the railway used to run over by the Sand Road. When I was a kid my Uncle Dick used to drive his 63 gray Valiant over it to get to his house. It later became neglected and the road is no longer there. Just a pile of sand and the breakwater sticks in that area is long gone. When it was a road was when I learned to ride a two-wheel bike.

Back then bikes usually came in 16 inch, 18 inch and 20 inch sizes and were referred in that way. Probably the wheel size. The Curtis family lived close to the Sand Road and their dad was a taxi driver who travelled to St. John’s daily. Mr. Pat sadly passed away very young from cancer. The Curtis kids had bikes. One such bike that was ready for scrap is what Yours Truly, Ez Nibs, as my Dad often called me, learned to ride.

Now, keep in mind the Road had some sand on it, so falling off a bike was not too painful.
The bike was a 16″ and wine-coloured. Burgundy, not white. It was missing a few vital parts. Let’s say it was not roadworthy. The nearest RCMP Station at that time was in Ferryland, which was fifty miles away and they visited every Thursday.

The bike was missing brakes, rubber tires, tubes. It was a real beauty. The Sand Road close to my Grandfather’s house had a small hill. It was there where I met with a few local skeets my age. They were going to teach me to ride a bike.

With two on each side holding me up, they would sprint with me down the hill like a Calgary bobsled team training for the Olympics. About halfway down they would let go and I would peddle like a young Lance Armstrong but without the enhancers to keep me from going airborne.

A couple of years later my parents bought me my first bike. It was a 20″ fire truck red Luxus with coaster brakes. I was so excited I was up at the crack of dawn riding it before Father had a chance to put it together. He warned me the night before not to do that. Following rules was not in my make up.

The next day I had nuts and bolts all over Trepassey. Some of the ones he had in an old drawer to tighten the bike with were not too attractive. You know square nuts that should have been round. Every kid wanted to try my new bike and they all said they knew how to ride one. Even though there were less than half a dozen bikes in town. Father told me and for once I listened to him: Don’t go lending kids your bike. Every time they return its damaged. Take care of it and it will last you. You know I always take care of my stuff and things do last longer when taken care of.

A couple of years later in ‘71 Trepassey got the roads paved. You can imagine a young fella trained on the Sand Road on a bike with no tires was flying high on pavement. I did end up in hospital once with a fractured thigh. Other than that, it was smooth riding.

I remember living on Vancouver Island in the early ‘90’s. I rode my ten-speed back and forth to work each day. 30 km each way. In Victoria you can ride a two-wheel bike all year around.

See Ya!