BMX Birthday

By: Clayton Ray Randell

As a Pisces, my birthday falls in early spring. My sixth birthday brought a fantastic gift for a child cloistered inside for much of the winter; a BMX bike.

All previous modes of transportation paled in comparison to this sleek & shiny vehicle. I knew I would be careening down the sidewalk into a much bigger world.

The image of Elliot, E.T. and his friends rocketing through the air was still fresh in my mind. With unbridled excitement I mounted my aluminum and rubber steed, and promptly crashed into the ground.

My father in his wisdom had purposely acquired a bike that was too tall for me to reach the ground with both feet. Being a veteran motorcycle rider he new that the only way to go was fast. In all endeavors he instructed me to not drag my feet.

I tried unsuccessfully for a week to prop myself up on the bike against the piano in our living room. I suppose now that my Dad was building my anticipation. Finally one frozen morning, he took me to the park.

Once there he set me out on my own. Cornwall Park has several paved paths. Somehow, I do not recall having difficulty getting started. I began pedaling and wheeling around the park.

My Dad, satisfied I needed no help had climbed back into the van to stay warm.

I made several passes and on one turn, as I was coming back by I hit a patch of ice and went down. When I looked up to my fathers face in the window he was laughing. I was as angry as a three foot child could be. I got up and ran to the side of the van. He was still laughing. I jumped up and down. I am sure my little voice was providing as vile a tirade as a six year old has the vocabulary for, when I fell where I stood on another patch of ice.

Finally my Dad got out. With the hint of a smirk still on his face, he informed me why he was laughing. He was proud of me and amazed about how I had fallen. When my bike slid out from under me, I had swung up onto the frame and rode out the crash on top of it. My Dad was stunned that I had instinctively done what he did on his motorcycle when in a slide. Besides that, I know an enraged kindergartner can be pretty humorous in itself.

With my bike and my father’s tutelage I travelled much of western Whatcom County, long before the arrival of helmets and pads.