Biking Memory #2

I had no idea I had so many biking memories, until the weather got too cold to bike. I guess this is what happens when you grow up in the suburbs and live your summers outside, sunrise to sunset.

We glanced at the darkening skies, only a quick glance, before continuing on. At that time, the streets in our neighborhood were new to us. We’d never been on them before, by ourselves, our hands gripping the handlebars whose rainbow streamers fluttered in the wind. I felt the smallest drop of rain and ignored it. We wanted to keep riding, see how far we could go before we couldn’t go anymore. The rain fell harder, but it was warm against our skin. A summer rain that didn’t leave a chill. Soon, it was pouring. We didn’t think about our tires skidding, our hair and clothes getting soaked, our parents probably wondering where we were, we only thought about going farther, never turning back around.

I think that’s what I love about biking, it makes the streets you walk and drive on every day seem new. You can always go a little bit farther and see what else there is to see.

And, there’s no disclaimer here. I firmly advocate biking in the rain.

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