Growing up, our neighbours across the street had a semi-circle driveway. We loved it and they didn’t mind all the kids who used it daily. It was our own “race car circuit”. I remember watching my brother David, peddle feverishly up the one side, so he could coast down the other. He took his feet off the peddles and the bright red tricycle gained some speed. Which it did to his peril, flipping over and flinging him to the ground. Tears, scrapes, and teeth through his lip. And to add insult to injury, no using the Turner’s specially designed driveway for many, many weeks.

My first “big bike” was a hand-me-down from my sister. It had seen better days, but I loved it just the same. I went on to ride a burgundy “low rider” with a banana seat and I doubled my school mate Toby home from school everyday. Once I hit secondary school the CCM Targa was my ride and I loved its gorgeous shade of blue. In an event much like my brothers’, I was riding home after a baseball game, with my glove hanging down and it got stuck in the spokes. This stopped my bike dead and flipped me over onto the pavement. Scraped my wrist and knees, warped my spokes and injured my pride.  

My beloved Targa’s colour came to mind when my co-worker Jo-Anne, rode her newest bike to work. This leads me to a short tale on Jo’s many bicycles. The picture for this blog was taken on the front porch of 356 Queens Avenue where she locks her bike to the railing. Jo-Anne rides to work and has done so for years. Sometimes the bike is locked up on the back porch. Other times, it accompanies her right into the office. This can occur on a rainy day, or when she is being careful due to a bike being stolen after the lock is cut off. This fate has befallen Jo-Anne more times than I can remember. Yet, it doesn’t stop her from “getting back on the saddle” of her latest incarnation.

Stephen, another co-worker also rides to work. He accomplishes this through all types of weather, including the freak wind-storm we had not too long ago. On his way home, buffeted by the powerful speed of the gales, he said he it was impossible to move forward. In fact, it was the first time he had ever been pushed backwards by the wind while riding his bike.   

Rodey, another co-worker also bikes to Meals on Wheels. He’s been away for the last three weeks, but now that the weather has improved, I will know the days he rides to work, because he’ll ring the doorbell at the door to get into the office. He leaves his keys at home because when he bikes, they dig into his leg.

With a big front basket and the right type of bike, I’ll bet there are Meals on Wheels volunteers in smaller communities who would delight in riding their bikes to deliver meals.  Laura