3. Write about a memory with a bicycle.

I learned to ride a bike a week or two before my 4th birthday. I remember it vividly. On my birthday, my parents asked what I wanted to do to celebrate and I replied “go on a bike ride.” We often went on family bike rides, but I always had to sit in a child bike seat, or balance on the crossbar of my dad’s bike.

It would be my first bike ride, riding all by myself. We all got on our bikes, my dad carrying my little brother in a child bike seat, and set off. We rode for about 2 hours before stopping at a little farm for a picnic of salami sandwiches. After playing at the farm we got back on our bikes to ride through the ravine that runs through the heart of Toronto.

I remember the beautiful weather, the autumn trees in the golden sunlight, the wind as we rolled down hills and having to get off and push my bike up the other side.

As the shadows were starting to get long we returned to our neighborhood. My older brothers knew the way so they took off around the corner to race home.  I followed after them, but as I turned the corner, my tire slipped on some sand and I fell off my bike. I scraped my knee badly, but I was too filled with joy to admit it hurt. I got back on my bike and gingerly peddled home.

My mom was shocked to find my leg covered with blood, but she didn’t scold me. Instead she just asked about our adventure. After cleaning up the graze and putting on a bandage she asked what I wanted to do the next Sunday.

“Go on a bike ride,” I replied.