Cycles

Today my daughter learnt to ride her bike without stabilisers. She is enormously proud of her achievement and has spent much of the afternoon calling her grandparents to tell them about it. I have only vague memories of the day I learnt to ride a bike. I do remember that it was red and new – not my brother's hand-me-down. I think I was pedalling down the lane outside our house and my Dad was holding on to the back. Then all of a sudden he wasn't holding on and I was doing it myself. My daughter's memories are unlikely to be so vague. I had my camera at the ready and shot several short videos of her wobbling towards me. What she might not remember is the ride along the road by the river, where she fell into the hedge a couple of times – with the scratches to prove it. But – and this I am most proud of – each time she fell, she got up, got back on and had another go. I could hear her next to me, muttering under her breath, 'I can do it, I will do it...' I'm sure this part of her memory will fade as the scratches on her arm heal. But I won't ever forget that.