𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫.

I had quite an adventurous childhood.

I threw stones at dogs who could only get agitated and bark, because they couldn’t get to me as I made fun of them on top of some wall.

I went bird and crab hunting, and occasionally, fishing … I was part of almost any group-of-kids’ expeditions that were bound to land us in trouble with our parents.

I played a lot of football, I was quite good at it — if any doubt crossed your mind, don’t you dare express it to my hearing — I was one heck of a football player back-in-the-day.

Since I was very athletic, I did great at a number of sports we played as neighborhood kids — the conventional, and not-so-conventional.

It was one sunny afternoon that I decided to add Cycling to my endless list of skills.

I didn’t have a bicycle then, but the few kids in the hood who could ride were becoming notoriously famous — they impressed the girls, and had some bragging rights over the boys who couldn’t manage to balance that two-wheeled contraption.

The boy who had agreed to teach me remains one of the worst teachers I’ve encountered in my life, but for some weird reason, his method proved effective: he just set me atop a hill, left me alone on a bicycle, and just waited to find out if I’d either ride or die.

If I didn’t figure out a way to pedal and control the two-wheeler, I had two options: crash into a wall that was downhill or into a sugarcane bush that was just at the edge of the first curve to the right I’d encounter riding down the hill.

The bicycle we used that day had particularly tricky brakes: it was one of those that didn’t have the easy-to-press brake right behind the handle — you had to pedal back a certain type of way to apply the brakes — till date, I still perceive being able to successfully apply brakes of that type of bicycle as being more of a game of chance than skill.

I looked on with admiration as my so-called teacher rode the bike to the top of the hill, telling me to run after him with a tone that depicted he was in charge — he would sit to pedal, and sometimes stand to do so in a way that left me bewildered — no wonder the girls liked him.

I was breathless when we got to the top of the hill, but my spirit was high on determination.

I wobbled my way on top of the bike, it was not so easy to balance the thing like I’d thought.

Like a baby fish that was expected to be a swimming pro as soon as it was born into grand ocean, I was pushed down the hill before getting any sense of composure regarding even learning to balance right.

I could hear the cheers of kids behind me as I sped downhill at the speed of light, my feet instinctively started working, the adrenaline rush kicked in — I had no skill regarding how to maneuver this thing, but I didn’t have long to decide on my next move — if I didn’t manage to slow down and turn right in the next few seconds, I would join the heavenly choir before sundown.

I have no idea how I did it, but I was in the bush before I became aware of what had just happened — the bicycle had been halted in the dense bush a little distance away from my scratched and hurting self, surrounded by tall blades of grass.

Like the typical adventurous and stubborn kid I was, I quickly got up, grabbed the bicycle, pushed it back on to the untarred road, and started to just ride — the glory of the cheers and applause my friends started to give me when they saw me making my way back to them, as a full-fledged rider, numbed the pains I felt all over my body — my initiation into the league of riders was successful!

Since that day, I’ve been able to ride any bicycle I ever held.

If you asked me to teach you, I wouldn’t have any how-to guide to offer — we just may have to pay a visit to the hilltop.

#storytelling #truestory #cycling #bicycles #adventure #kids #childhoodmemories #writer #writing #DhannyEL #DannyScript