I remember very clearly the experience of learning how to ride a bike for the first time.

I was fairly young because my family was still living in North Salt Lake. It was a beautiful summer day and I was tired of having those lame training wheels on my bike. They just slowed me down and I couldn't keep up with my older sister. I marched in my house, hands on my hips (probably a little dirt smugged on my face) and instructed my dad that it was time to come outside and help me take off those stupid baby wheels. I am sure that my dad had to surpress a laugh at the sight, but I was so serious that he just got up, took my hand and followed me outside.

In the driveway he put the bike upside down, picked up his screw driver and began the task at hand. While taking off the training wheels, he lovingly looked over at me and began to explain to me how exciting this new adventure would be and all that would be in store. I am sure that my eyes were a glow with anticipation because I could feel the energy build inside of me. Just imagining myself flying around corners and down hills and being as cool as the big kids.

Finishing, he placed the bike back upright, kneeled down so he was eye level and placed his hands on my shoulders. In the most caring voice he then expressed to me that there were also consenquences that came along with being a big kid and the first one was that we had to learn to ride without the training wheels. He told me that I had made the decision to go forward and to learn new things and he was so proud of me and was going to be right behind me every step of the way, even though sometimes I wouldn't know that he was there or even be able to see him. I trusted him and knew that he would never let me down.

So we walked out to the street and I climbed on the bike while my dad held the back of the seat to balance it. I placed my feet on the peddles and begin to make the wheels turn. Dad stayed true to his promise and jogged behind the bike holding the seat. I couldn't see him because he was behind me, but I knew he was there. Then I heard those words, "okay, are you ready for me to let go?" I shook my head in the affirmative thinking that I was so incredibly cool and could do anything on my own. I felt him let go and seconds later both the bike and I were no longer upright. Dad was right there. He picked me up and surveyed the damage.

"Ah, just a little skinned knee and a little road rash on the hands," he stated with a smile. He quickly kissed them better, picked the bike back up and placed me back onto the seat. Once again I could feel his strong hand take the back of the seat and I was comforted to know that he was going to be right there with me as I tried again. Off we went a little more down the road and then the words that struck fear into my heart, "okay, are you ready for me to let go?" Though this time he added, "remember that you are my brave girl and that you can do this and I will be right behind you." Confidence came back, if he knew that I could do it, then I knew I could do it. With tears running streaking down my face, I shook my head in affirmation and again felt the hand being removed. I went a little farther this time, but the ending was still a crash, this time a little worse because I was going a little faster.

I was once again in my dad's arms being held and loved and told that he was so proud of me. This happened a few more times before I finally went around entirely around the block and found my dad waiting with open arms and a smile only a dad can give a child when they have accomplished what was set out to be done. This time I used the breaks on the bike rather than my body to stop and jumped off and into his loving arms. It was a triumphal return to my home. My mom had been watching out the living room window and was there to greet me with many words of praise, a hug and the emergency kit.

I was sore. My hands had road rash. My elbows and knees were bleeding. I had a tear stained face from disappointment, frustration and pain (and was about to have more as the wounds were cleaned and bandaged). However, I had the satisfaction that I had accomplished and learned to do something new. I had the knowledge that would allow me to go back outside and continue to pratice and become even better and not do so many things wrong that caused me to fall.

Although I have years of practice riding a bike, there are still times that I crash. Roads are different and unexpected things occur that cause a loss of balance and down I go. The pain comes back, but I have to smile because I know that my dad is right behind me even though I can't always see him.