Saturday I got a new bike. The last bike I had was the yellow AZUKI 10 speed that I helped pay for in about 1972 it was $105.00. That bike was really pretty, but hard for me to control. I was only about 5' tall and the smallest 10 speed they made was a 21" (my new bike is a 15" and it fits perfectly). Anyhoo...the yellow AZUKI was also a man's bike soooo it had that damned bar that seriously came up to my tiny bustline. My Dad and I went to the Bike shop in Provo on what is now Bulldog Blvd and maybe 4th West. I special ordered a white bike. I was told that it would be 6 weeks before my bike would be there. I paid my $105.00, which included what my parents were paying, and sadly went home with no bike. About two weeks later I got a call from the bike shop and they told me that a yellow one had come in and that the girl who had ordered it couldn't get it right now, so did I want it instead of the white one? What a decision, I really wanted the white one, but I've always been one for instant gratification so I chose to take the yellow one. So the next evening...a beautiful summer evening, my Dad drove me in the orange VW squareback to the bike shop to pick up my awesome new bike.
I struggled to get on that bike and ride it around the parking lot. I knew the minute that I got on that I didn't like the fit, but there were no other choices so I said "I love it". I was busy thinking about getting it home and practicing on it and getting to know this "too big" bike. Then Dad said. "OK, hop on and I'll follow you home"
"What?" I said
"Hop on and I'll follow you home", said Dad
"I can't ride this home", I said
"Sure you can", said Dad
"No, I can't, can't we just stick it in the back of the car?"
"No you can ride it home, don't worry, I'll be right behind you".
OH HELL, I thought. I really don't want to ride this home.
So I tipped the bike about half way on it's side, swung my leg around, and tried to straigten the bike into an upright position. Very difficult when your bike is several inches too tall.
Well here I go...so I pedaled past the Fox Theater, the north side of Provo High, where the driver's ed students were driving on the range, past the old Taco Bell, turned on University, past the "LaVell Edwards Stadium" up the road to Rock Canyon School, turned at Indian Hills Drive. At the bottom of Indian Hills Drive I knew I'd have to get a running start to make it up. I made it up about 1/3 of the way, then had to maneuver myself off, before I fell off. From that point on I had to walk this beautiful new bike up the rest of the hill. All the while my Dad is following along at a snail's pace encouraging me on. I was pretty mad and tired by the time I got to our house. But suddenly I was extremely proud of myself. I was impressed that I did it. My Mom came out on the porch and made a big fuss about my bike and me and she took a picture of us...me and the bike. It was like a trophy to me.
I rode the bike quite a bit for the next few years, it never really fit me very well, but I got semi-used to it. I was always proud that I had helped pay for it.
But now...I have an awesome new bike, that fits me and it even has little flowers on it. Maybe if I ever ride it up Indian Hills Drive I'll have my picture taken.
