I AM 71; 67 years ago I took my first bike ride, wobbling down the sandy back lane of a tiny goldfields town. There were no training wheels, just my brother's steadying hand under the saddle. At age seven I was given a bike of my own - much used and in need of paint, but priceless.
My bikes progressed from being the proud means to an illusory independence at 10 to an embarrassment in adolescence. In between, I delivered the afternoon newspaper, chucked broggies in slippery riverside tracks, prowled distant neighbourhoods - and dinkied my sister to the Saturday afternoon movies....
Balance in The Australian.