My Mother Rode Her Bike

“Adventure is worthwhile in itself.” ~ Amelia Earhart

My mother rode her bike. No not recently, but some 60 years ago when she was 16 (though, later on too.) Now, to be clear, she wasn’t my mother or anyone’s mother at age 16, although marriage and motherhood would only be a few years away for her at that point and it would be another 8 years from then until I would be born, in 1957. There were 3 sibs ahead of me and 1 after, in 1960. (Hi Holly!) My parents met at an airport of all things!

Now, some kids are given exclusive use of a car when they are 16 or even given a car, period. But, my mother rode her bike. A lot of kids had jobs after school to which they walked, took the bus or drove their car. My mother rode her bike. Now, granted, some kids had to walk everywhere and didn’t even have a bike, let alone a car. My mother lived in a large metropolitan suburb of a major city and as such, the town she grew up in itself was highly populated, probably around 40,000 people back then. It had a hospital, public transportation and was easy to get around. And, as established, my mother rode her bike.

When I was 16, I had a bike too. My first 10 speed. I remember it now as clear as if it were just yesterday, riding my bike everywhere that first summer I had it. I got it for my 16th birthday. I paid for half of it with the money I saved from babysitting and my Dad paid for the balance. It was $120.00 which was a lot of money back then. I still have the odometer which, I believe, shows 1600 miles. (I’ll have to dig it up and check it out now to be sure.) Of course, years later, my two boys had bikes too and also rode everywhere on them. There were a few times when we’d all be camping together – my husband and our boys in our RV and my Mom and Dad in their Bus – we all would bring our bikes and would ride around the campground together. I rode, the boys rode and, as already stated - my mother rode her bike.

“Oh my gosh,” I bet you are saying, “enough already about the bikes! What is the point of your blog?” Well, you’ll just have to trust me and keep reading!

My mother was sort of spoiled when she was a little, I think. She had lessons of all sorts (and a bike at age 2) and nothing was too good for my grandparents’ “little girl.” Among other things, my Mom had piano lessons. When she was 5 she could play the Star Spangled Banner – with both hands! She could read the sheet music! How do you read 2 different lines (staffs) of music at the same time and move your fingers to the right keys, period, let alone when you are 5?! I could never figure this out. Your right hand plays one thing – reading the music in treble clef – and your left hand plays something different, at the same time – reading, at the same time something different in bass clef. Maybe I don’t have that quite right. I’m not sure. But I have tried to play the piano and I just don’t see it working for me. I guess that’s why I played the trumpet in school. 3 keys – 3 fingers. It couldn’t get any easier than that. Now, my sons played instruments with both hands too – taking after their Grammy I guess! My oldest played the clarinet in school (like his Auntie – Hi Teri) and my younger son played the sax! 2 hands – 10 fingers moving differently – amazing! I am in awe of this talent. My younger son is still serious about his music and plays the guitar (2 hands - 10 fingers, doing different things at the same time!) It is really amazing to me and I really love to hear my son play his guitar. He is truly talented and I couldn’t possibly be more proud of him and in awe of his talent.

OK, back to the various lessons and talents my mother had (in addition to her bike riding talents, for which she needed no lessons and was riding at age 2, when she got her first bike – as mentioned!) When my mother was 15 – at a time when most kids are taking driving lessons - she was taking flying lessons! You know, as in a plane in the sky! Flying lessons! I mean, how cool is that?! And when my mother was 16 – when most kids get their drivers license – Mom got her pilot’s license! Her pilot’s license! Now wait, it gets better. For her sweet sixteen, my grandparents bought their little girl a plane! A freakin’ plane! (I know, I keep repeating myself. I can’t help it.) “My mother had her own plane!” (I’m shouting this now.) She must have promised to get straight A’s, I bet. My mother’s name is Alice and she named her plane, appropriately, Wonderland. She had it painted on the side. I guess I don’t need to state the obvious – you know, what people would say when they looked up in the sky and saw my mother in her plane! Isn’t that just too cool?

Now, as it turns out, there was a handsome fly-boy at the airport where my mother kept her plane. He owned his own plane too. It didn’t take long at all for him to notice her. I mean, how many young women have their pilot’s license, let alone their own plane!!? She was probably the only gal there. And, as mentioned earlier, it was at the airport where my mother-to-be met my father-to-be, (lucky for me) who was 4 years older than she. They would fly together, quite literally, off into the sunset! How storybook is that?! And the rest, as they say, is history. Oh, there’s just one last thing. The small airport where my mother kept her plane was 2 towns away from where she lived. Now, I don’t know how many miles that was, but it was a lot. She didn’t have use of a car or even have her driver’s license for that matter. So, with no other means to get to her plane – and in order to be able to fly - my mother rode her bike.

“I’d Rather Be Flying.” ~ Alice - in Wonderland

Author's Note: OK, I'm sure you're wondering where did this all come from and why have I wandered from my "backyard" theme. Well firstly, I guess since this is my blog I'll write what I feel and I will stray off topic from time to time. Secondly, we took Mom to see the movie "Amelia" last week. Great movie - good visual - stunning really (oh, I know I use that word too much!) Anyway - I really could go on and on about the movie and the woman, but I'll just leave it at that.