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Narrative Essay On Riding A Bike

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I rushed down the road; my chubby cheeks jiggling as the wind blew swiftly onto my face. I felt like even Usain Bolt himself wouldn’t have been able to accelerate at the astonishing speeds I was going. Suddenly, once my father decided let go of my shoulders, I found myself spiraling down a hill uncontrollably. I grabbed the handlebars firmly as I screamed towards the heavens at the top of my lungs. My feet flailing around whilst attempting to scour for the pedals. Seconds later, I found myself crashing onto the side of the road, looking as though I had just challenged Evander Holyfield to a twelve–round fistfight. At that moment, I had decided, with the firm resolve of a fickle-minded ten-year old kid, to never ride a bike again.

Riding a bike has always been one of my greatest challenges of my young life. It was a childhood dream of mine to be able successfully ride the green Cannondale Hybrid I had seen in an episode of Tony Hawk’s trick moves displayed on television. In order to achieve this wish of mine, I painstakingly walked seven miles all around my neighborhood to
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Although, to my surprise, it was quite hard to ride a bike. It took longer than I realized to perform tricks I had seen the masters like Tony Hawk execute, and even longer to simply manage to turn around corners. I was determined to become the best at controlling that two-wheeled vehicle. Although, after a certain traumatic fiasco which lead to my very first visit to the operating room, I decided to lay the bike riding dream of mine to a rest and pursue some other “passions” that didn’t involve me rolling down a slope at 20 miles per hour. Despite this, I knew that a measly broken limb wasn’t going to be able to hinder my journey of discover the things around my
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