George’s bike
George is 5. George is potty (potty in a good way and where cycling is concerned, probably the best way). At our recent coaching session for kids, I was helping out. The kids lined up onto the line, George rolled forward about 10 feet. I bent down.
Hello George.
Hello.
Would you like to roll back a bit?
No.
Wouldn’t you like to start from the line?
No thanks. I’ll start from here.
Then he was off. Racing around in dragonfly fashion; to and fro, here, there and everywhere. The analogy with dragonflies is deliberate. He really does fly. Kids and bikes. Bikes and kids. It doesn’t get more natural than that.
We love George’s bike. Small and perfectly formed, it also has a brilliant Heath Robinson rear mudguard, fashioned from bits of plastic, nuts, bolts and tape.
This reminds me of the kids’ course at a cross event I once went to. It was mostly toddlers on balance bikes, but even at that young age several of them were REALLY REALLY serious about the competition.
I love kids cross. You see it all. 8 year olds with Oakleys. 5 year olds with barbie bikes. Everything in between. A few years back at one of the Welsh cross league meets, the u-8s came hairing around a bend. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, the leaders shot by. Then toward the rear of the field my friend’s daughter Grace pootled by, bell ringing of its own accord, a teddy bear lashed to the stem and a smile wider than the handlebars. Priceless.