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Creative writing on my first bicycle

Essay – How I learned to ride a bicycle

I can still remember it as if it happened yesterday. I must have been seven or eight years old when I rode my first bicycle, and the day I learned to ride my bike is very memorable to me. Learning how to ride a bicycle can be exciting as well as painful. But I found it really exciting indeed. I was starting to realize that all of the other kids where riding two-wheelers, and I was the only one still riding a small bike with those ridiculous training wheels. I felt that it was time for me to make a transition from training wheels to a “big kid” bike.

It was my sister who taught me how to ride a bicycle “The training wheels are coming off today” was the first thing she said at the breakfast table. Mom just finished a batch of her secret ingredient blue berry pancakes with butter on top. Walking outside that morning I can remember how sunny it was and how there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was a bright warm day and the perfect summer day. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the afternoon.

She and I went to the park to see what we could do there. There was nobody in the park when we arrived. My sister brought her bicycle and told me to sit on it and place my feet on the pedals. The bike was a blue, white seated two wheeler that had a basket in the front. The event stuck in my head because it was the first thing I can remember my sister and I doing together.

“Pedal slowly!”, she advised me while she held the bicycle and ran slowly along.

The road on which I was learning was smooth. My sister was holding the rear of the seat to make sure I wouldn’t fall. She assured me that I was not going to fall because she would be running right behind, holding the bicycle. She reassured me by saying that it was the word of a sister and I could trust it.

“You’re gonna do great!”, she said.

My sister was kind. She spent several hours trying to teach me how to ride. She did not let go of the bicycle even once. I was indeed very much excited at this opportunity to learn how to ride a bicycle. I thanked my sister for her kindness and patience. By the time I got the hang of it, the sun was going down so she said we could continue tomorrow on the stopping. At dinner my mom cooked my favorite foods, because of the hard work I put in.

The next day, again, my sister took me to a road. I started to pedal and the bicycle moved. Once it started to move, I felt pedaling was much easier than I remembered.

“Would it be as easy to ride the bicycle without you holding on it?”, I asked.

She did not answer me because she couldn’t run, hold the bycicle, and talk at the same time. Or this is what I thought. In a few seconds, I will have known the reason for her silence, but for the time being I told her we could stop if she was tired. Again, she did not reply. I turned to see if she was feeling O.K. I saw her, except she wasn’t where I expected her to be. She was about fifty yards away from where I was. Suddenly, I felt quite giddy. I was scared to death that I was going to fall and hurt myself. When I was scared, my mind went blank from peddling, and I just wanted off. I forgot how to use the brakes, lost control and fell right off the bike. I cried but no one looked at me because…well…no one was there.

She ran over and said she let me go because she could no longer keep up. After I was done crying, she told me there was nothing more she could teach me, that I had learned enough. I only needed some practice now. I was extremely happy to hear this. She said that if I could ride it the way I rode it for that fifty yards, I had no problems.

I practiced for a few more hours and I was getting pretty good. But it was painful, for I fell several times and received some cuts on my hands and legs. My sister, however, told me not to lose heart. Soon I found that I could pedal some distance without falling. My sister told me I was the fastest learner that she had ever seen. I told her that she was the best teacher that I’d ever met. We came home hand in hand as if we were best cronies.

Not long after, dad bought me a brand new bicycle. It was neon-red! As soon as I set my eyes on my own bicycle I fell in love with it. I nurtured the bicycle like a baby, replacing all the worn cables, carefully oiling all the necessary parts, aligning the brakes.

A few days ago, I took a ride with my sister and had all the memories back. When I think of those times, one of my most memorable childhood experiences would definitely be learning to ride a bike. Almost every child will encounter this event in some period of their lifetime, and will actually discover a great deal from it.

This event not only represents freedom for me, but it also helped me establish the foundation on which I base my existence. Learning to ride a two-wheeler demonstrated a new way to have fun, and also illustrates how will-power and perseverance help overcome challenges throughout life: “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.”(Albert Einstein)

Creative writing on my first bicycle

I still remember the day when I got my first bicycle. I got it when I was seven years old. It was a four-wheel cycle. It was pink in colour. There was a beautiful picture of Barbie on my cycle seat. Every day morning I would ride my cycle . I loved to ring the bell whenever I saw people coming near my cycle. My cycle had a basket in the front. I always kept my favourite teddy bear in the basket. Afterwards my father removed the side wheels. I was very scared to ride the cycle without side wheels. Suddenly, one day I put both my legs on the pedals and rode. Finally, I learnt to ride a bicycle all alone. I was so happy. When I grew up my father bought me a big bicycle. Now, I ride it to school and also to some nearby shops. But still I love my first bicycle and keep it safe in my house. I will give it to my sister when she grows up.

My First Bike Ride – Grade 11, Rain

It all started in the summer break after my graduation from senior kindergarten. The sunny and beautiful weather outside inspired me to play and make more friends. In a very friendly and generous manner, I greeted the kids next door. I intended to make friends with kids who were older than me because I wanted to become more mature and sociable before I stepped into the elementary school. Thankfully, I was the youngest of the bunch. We decided to meet in the garden beside my apartment to play every day.

In my group of friends, I was closest to Yang, one of the oldest kids in the group. Yang acted like a big brother. He always brought me treats and always took extra care of me. His behaviour motivated everyone in our group to respect and regard him as a role model.

My friends and I loved to play hide and seek and collect flowers in the garden. As we played together every day, our relationship and the bond between us strengthened. The days I enjoyed playing with my friends continued until one day, Yang brought a weird metal-structured toy to the garden. “What is it?” we asked Yang. “It’s called Bicycle. My dad bought it for me yesterday. This is what all the older kids play now,” Yang replied with an expression of pride on his face. Without a word, he hopped on his bicycle and rode it around the garden. Our eyes sparkled with admiration and jealousy. As he rode along the sides of the garden, we chased behind Yang’s bicycle and asked him if we could try it. Yang hopped off his bicycle and generously allowed everyone to ride it. My friends, one by one, rode the bicycle rhythmically and effortlessly around the garden. After waiting for everyone to finish their turns, it was finally my turn to ride. I carefully sat on the seat of the bicycle and tried to reach the foot pedal. As I had expected, the bicycle was too big for me. I used all the strength in my legs, and I finally touched the foot pedal down the frame, which seemed to be a bottomless pit. I carefully and slowly pushed my leg down to the foot pedal and precisely adjusted the direction of the bicycle. I held the handles tightly and I could feel my hands oozing with sweat. As I was about to proceed, I could hear my friends cheering for me, “You can do it! Just step down on the pedal and focus on the road.” Despite the sound of the cheering, I could still clearly hear the rapid pounding of my heart. I took a deep breath and started to manipulate the bicycle. In a matter of seconds, I lost my balance and fell hard to the ground. I could feel a burning pain on the sides of my knees; they were bleeding. In front of everyone, without hesitation, I cried. I didn’t cry because of the pain I felt in my knees; I cried because of the humiliation and the embarrassment I felt in front of everyone for being the only loser.