Biking

remember · Posted: 04 Jul 2006 05:08 pm Post subject: Biking

Some of my most treasured memories are of biking with my son, Andrew. He loved biking at an early age and possessed incredible endurance. We would go for twenty mile rides when he was only eight-years-old. Once we took a side road that ended up in a dried up creek bed. It was a very rough ride, but Andrew loved the challenge. I believe this riding was one of the reasons that Andrew became such a great athlete. He learned how to push himself. He achieved self-confidence through his great accomplishments.

The last mile home always seemed to be the hardest when he was young, though. He would have incredible energy through most of the ride and then as we approached home his energy level would drop, he would have to stop, and literally lay down in someone’s field for a few minutes to recover. I think it was because he knew that the long climb up the steep hill to our home was on the horizon and he had to recharge his battery. This is still the hardest part of my rides today.

Once we headed off to Holly River and along the way we decided to try a shortcut. He was such a good sport, because the shortcut actually turned out to be a big mistake. It went on for miles and miles on a back country road and finally when we made it back to the main road it was getting too late for us to make it to Holly River that day. He never complained about it because he knew the destination was not really the point, but the time that we had to spend together riding was precious.

On his fifteenth birthday his Dad and I went together to get him a Gary Fisher bike from Fat Tire. He had outgrown and worn out his Mongoose from Holy Moses. We had taken him to Sam’s Pizza right before we went to the bike shop, and he certainly fueled up as only Andrew could with his incredible ability to out-eat anyone in the restaurant. After we got home, Andrew and I took a great ride, heading off to a barely traveled road with deep ditches and rocks as obstacles. He was dusting me. You see, he had reached the legal age where he could choose to lose the helmet for the day, and me, being much older and hotter with my helmet on, well… I was trailing behind. So, I decided (with my pride) that it was probably the helmet and not my age that was the source of the lagging behind. I made it through the worst part of our ride, and then on our way to Alton I pinched my tire between a crevice in a split rock in the middle of the road. I don’t remember the wreck; just what we could piece together and what Andrew told me. I hit my head hard, broke my glasses right on my face, needed stitches in my hand, arm and forehead. My bike must have flipped and I must have bounced with injuries on both sides of my body. Andrew told me that at first he didn’t notice that I wasn’t right behind him, and then he doubled-back and found me with blood streaming down my face. I didn’t remember it was his birthday, that we had bought that bike for him, and just couldn’t grasp the concept that my glasses were broken no matter how many times he told me. I was lucky to have wrecked near a house, as there were miles between houses back that road. A friendly farmer’s wife drove me home, and Andrew (illegally) drove me in our car to the health clinic in Rock Cave.

Before Andrew died last summer, we were planning on a ride. He said, “Just not on my birthday.” We both laughed.

Another wonderful memory was riding down at Virginia Beach. Our hotel had these really cheap bikes as part of the “luxury accommodations” provided. They were one-speeds, ergonomically incorrect, but we were riding on basically flat trails. I think it was six miles to the beach, an easy ride for us, but what a rush. Riding in the hot sun and ending up at the ocean. Whew! The next morning we even talked Aunt Sandra (my sister) into riding with us. She hardly ever rides, but she did great and really loved it. I am sure that is one of the best times of her life, too.

Andrew continued “dusting me” for years after that. I just couldn’t get him to slow down to my pace, and I understood that. Of course, sometimes he would bike beside me, but his spirit was pushing him to go as fast and as far as he could.

He had plenty of practice in his teenage years. Many of you know that Andrew would ride his bike to school (approximately eight miles) then run track or cross country, then work at Burger King until the wee hours of the morning, then ride back home. Wow. He had offers for rides and everyone worried about him, but he loved it and he was in the absolute best condition of his life.

The last ride we had together is so sad to me. He was heading from my house to his Dad’s on a back country road. I had been having some health problems and he was dusting me again. My plan was to ride part of the way, but I ended up quitting before I had planned to because I was in pain. Just before I quit, I told Andrew, “Gee, it would be sad if this was the last ride we had together.” I was thinking that it would be me that would be able to ride with him anymore. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that he would be the one that couldn’t make it.

The day Andrew was lovingly laid to rest, I placed a card in his casket. On it I wrote, “Be with me on bike rides.” I think he is. I hope so.

Andrew, thank you for being such a sweet son. I can’t even begin to explain to anyone how much the time I spent with you means to me. There just aren’t the right words in the entire universe to explain my love for you.

P.S. I am keeping your bike warm for you.
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Andrew's Mom