Pedals of the Past

Evan's journey to riding a bike brings his family closer together. Writer's Cramp Winner!

Evan was thirty four when he finally decided it was time.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to learn. There were moments; sun drenched afternoons when kids zipped past on two wheels, training wheels discarded like old toys, when the thought crossed his mind. But life had a way of getting in the way. More than that, it started with one day...the day.

He was seven. His father, Daniel, had promised to teach him. It was a Saturday. Evan still remembered the blue bike waiting in the driveway, streamers on the handles, a bright red helmet. He’d bounced on his heels, anticipation bubbling in his chest. But that morning, everything changed.

His mother’s scream. The ambulance. The neighbors whispering. His father's heart had given out. Just like that, his rock...their rock...was gone.

The bike sat untouched for weeks, then was quietly given away. And the idea of riding, of sitting on a bike that wasn't taught by his father; it just never felt right.

Years went by. There were school plays, college, his first apartment, the day he met Mara, their wedding under a golden sky. There were bills, and promotions, and late night drives with the windows down. And then, there was Theo; his son, born with his father’s eyes and his mother’s laugh.

Evan thought he’d made peace with the idea. Not everyone needed to know how to ride a bike. He had other talents. He could barbecue the perfect burger and whistle any song after hearing it once. That was enough.

Until one spring afternoon, watching Theo run through the park, cheeks flushed and shoes muddy, Evan thought, He’s getting older. Maybe it’s time.

That night, after Theo was tucked in with his favorite dinosaur plush and a bedtime story, Evan sat at the kitchen table with Mara.

“I want to get Theo a bike,” he said, stirring his tea slowly. “But...I never learned to ride. I don’t want him to ask me to show him how and I can’t. I don’t want to be the dad who stands on the sidelines.”

Mara gave him a soft smile, the kind she always saved for when she saw right through his words to the heart of the matter. She reached across the table, taking his hand.

“Then let’s learn. Just you and me. While he’s at school. We’ve got time.”

And so, the next day, with the sun peeking through soft clouds and the scent of spring in the air, they went to the park. Evan had bought a simple black bike; nothing flashy. He adjusted the seat three times, tightened the helmet straps, and stood staring at it like it was a mountain to climb.

Mara held the handlebars steady. “You’ve got this,” she said.

The first ride was...rough. Wobbly starts, a near crash into a trash bin, and at least two scraped knees. Evan cursed more than he’d admit. But every time he fell, Mara was there; laughing sometimes, but always ready to help him back up.

By the end of the week, he was coasting down the path, wind in his hair, heart pounding not from fear but joy.

It wasn’t just about learning to ride. It was healing, pedal by pedal. It was feeling like that little boy again, but this time, he didn’t feel left behind.

On Saturday morning, Evan and Mara led Theo outside. On the porch sat a bright green bike with orange accents and a shiny silver bell.

Theo’s eyes went wide. “Is that for me?”

Evan grinned, crouching beside him. “Only if you promise to go easy on your old man.”

“You can ride?!” Theo asked, incredulous.

Evan nodded. “Took me a while, but yeah. Your mom and I learned together.”

Theo looked from his parents to the bike and then squealed with excitement.

Moments later, helmets on and hearts full, the three of them pedaled down the park trail. Theo giggled as he swerved playfully between his parents, Mara shouted encouragements, and Evan...well, Evan just rode.

And for the first time in a long time, with wind in his face and laughter around him, he felt his father right there beside him, steadying the handlebars one last time.