For three decades now, BWorks has been offering programs that spark creativity, innovation and teamwork among St. Louis-area youth, all while enriching their lives for years to come. We hope you can join us on Saturday, October 26, from 4 to 7 p.m. to help us celebrate this milestone.
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It was spring break. Time for fun with me and my siblings. My siblings Carmen and Owen were riding their bikes with me in the alley behind our house. If you walk down the alley, this is what you would see: about 7 houses going down the alley, each of them different, then a crossroad. You can go to a small bit of alley before the road comes. We call that Turnaround, because you have to turn around before you reach the road. The other way is Dog Hill. I’ll explain why.
Carmen and I had been going on walks over the summer, and we both knew that there is a scary brown dog. It is very large, and likes to jump around with such ease that you think he could jump right over the fence surrounding the backyard. Also, add snarling teeth and a very loud bark. You take an ordinary steep hill, then you add a ferocious dog barking at you as you try to keep yourself upright. To make matters even worse, there are bushes, street signs, broken branches of trees, and even an old shed in the dog’s yard that he likes to hide behind, then jump out and scare you halfway down the hill.
We decided that we would ride in a line, and switch who was in the front after that person had gone down the alley, down and up Dog Hill, then back up the alley. I was the first person in line. I was kind of scared, but also happy that I was the first to go down our new route. I went down the main alley, easy-peasy. Now came Dog Hill.
I went halfway down, then the dog jumped out from behind the large bush in the yard, teeth bared. I raced down the rest of the hill, but now I had to get back up. Shifting my bike to 1 for friction, I carefully pedaled one step, then another, but then I was back within the dog’s sight. Barking all the way, he ran along the fence, chasing me up the hill, before finally, I stood panting in front of my siblings.
I was done with bike riding for the day, but tomorrow I would check to see if the dog was really there, or if he was just a daytime nightmare. (Guess what: He was real! I’m not crazy!)
My brother Cole and I did the Bikeworks program. Bworks is a nonprofit organization that teaches kids different things like in my bike class. I did it with my brother and at the end we each got a free bike. We love our bikes and ride them a lot.
This was our first trip to somewhere else besides my ally or my backyard. My dad took me, my brother, and my sister out on a bike trail about a year ago. There were two trails: a half-mile trail and a five-mile trail. I wanted to do the five-mile trail but I had to stay with my parents who were on the shorter route and stayed close to my sister. Cole rode ahead with me. I crashed a few times. It was pretty funny. It was only funny because of how I fell. I would fall over the front of my bars.
Cole laughed and helped me up off the trail. We kept riding through the 105 degree weather. I was going so fast and getting so much moving air from my speed over three- to five- foot jumps off of ramps made from fallen trees and sloped rocks that I wasn’t hot at all. But my whole family was dying from the heat. By the time we got to the end of the trail there were maybe four cars left out of like 38 cars that were there when we started our ride. They all left because of the heat. I begged my dad to let me go on the five-mile trail. He said no, and we left. We went to QT, and I ended up getting a pepperoni pizza and a Mountain Dew.
I remember the excitement of getting the training wheels taken off the bike. I loved the feeling of being able to move to the next level: The big-kid level in my brain. I remember being a little wobbly at first, but I eventually got the hang of it after a couple tries, meaning like five or six tries. It got better each time though. It felt like I actually had a sense of freedom and independence without those training wheels slowing me down now. I was so happy the day I got to take the training wheels off. One, I felt like big kid, two, I would get to go faster, which is what I really wanted to do, and, three, I could learn a new way of pretty fast transportation to different places like cafes and parks.
I remember riding around the lake and over a bridge in the park. specifically Benton Park. I honestly rode everywhere I could in the park until I got the hang of it fully and then got tired. But I think we would’ve all done that if we had just gotten the hang of riding the bike without the training wheels for the first few times.
There are actually multiple bike stories I remember of me learning how to go fast, pull the brakes, and stand up on it. The first time I stood up on the bike I yelled to one of my parents with joy, saying “I finally got it!” When you stand up on a bike, it feels kind of like you’re flying a little bit. I have so many memories of weaving in and out of the playground equipment and going down big hills.
Some other very important memories I have of riding my bike are when my sister and I used to practice riding in my grammy’s driveway. We would sometimes race each other. I would win some, then she would win some, then she would lose some, and i would lose some.
I don’t have many other memories of bike rides past eleven years old, but all of the times i practiced and rode was a good time. All of my memories and stories consist of fails and practicing until it’s perfect. But I think that is what we would all do if we had a hobby that we liked. All of my memories and stories consist of fails and practicing until it’s perfect.