As I become older and more mature in years, I am still amazed at the memories I can recall from my childhood. One memory came to my mind this afternoon, and I remembered it like it was yesterday. It was the memory of my 6th birthday. I remember it perfectly. It was later in the evening, the day before my actual birthday. Under false presences, my mother asked me to go out to the garage to fetch something for her. Finally persuaded, I tug on my Superman Sneakers, flip on the patio light, open the back door and head toward the garage. No sooner does the screen door slam shut behind me, that I see it – my birthday present. It was my very first bike! There it was – illuminated by the patio light, slightly glistening from the rain that had started to come down, tags still hanging from the handle bars, it was a Murray Bicycle. Better yet, it was MY Murray Bicycle. I was so excited! I remember my mom coming out moments later with my brother in toe and asked me what I thought about the bike. I was thrilled! I remember that I didn’t know how to ride a bicycle yet, but I was practicing on a crummy hand-me-down bicycle from my older sister, circa late 1970’s. Complete with a banana seat, fringe coming from the handle bars, and painted with rainbows (insert obvious comments here). My new bicycle had none of that. Instead, it had fun racing stripes of red and white and green, with the words “Murray” etched along frame. I was assured that we would put the new training wheels on my new Murray, and we would start practicing. Sure enough, the next day we got those training wheels on, and I spent the next few weeks practicing with my Opa (Grandpa in German) every day after school. After a few weeks, I was officially riding with just two wheels. No more training wheels for me! I felt like I was the king of the road – I had officially moved into the status of big kid! I had a bike that could take me anywhere, and I swear I thought I was the fastest peddler – EVER! Murray, me, and my Superman Sneakers – I was invincible! And thus a legend was born – Murray.
Having decided I had mastered the small side street that my Oma & Opa lived on, I was ready to try my skills out on the open road. I asked my mom if we could go on a bike ride early one evening. She agreed, and I was so eager! Finally, I could ride with my brother and his friends, and keep up. No longer lagging behind because my training wheels were slowing me down. We headed toward the K-Mart Bike Trail (it’s where the bike trail started, next to the K-Mart, so it became known as such) to begin our bike ride, my mom, my brother and his friend, and me and Murray. The bike path ran along the creek, and it was the end of the summer, so the creek was at a high point. Additionally, there was this one semi-tricky turn, when you would enter the bike path from the sidewalk. My brother and his friends always cut through the grass and rode down to the bike path, and this time was no different. Armed with my invincible Superman Sneakers and Murray, I was determined to take this path, same as my brother and his friend. Third in line after my brother and his friend, I take the turn, only I forget to cut the wheel and turn onto the bike path. Instead, I continue straight across the bike path, down the steep embankment, and right into the creek. Murray and I are completely submerged underwater, and I quickly pop-up to see my mom, brother and his friend standing at the edge trying to fish me out. They pull me to shore and fish out Murray. I am soaked head to toe, and freaked out, sobbing from the traumatic experience. My confidence is shot – I wasn’t ready for Murray. And what’s worse, he betrayed my trust! My mom and I walked Murray all the way home – what felt like miles! I was soaking wet, sobbing uncontrollably from the experience. My mom was trying to encourage me to get back on Murray, claiming we’d be home in less time. I didn’t want to get back on Murray – though he was fine for riding. I felt betrayed by Murray -- he had let me down! How could he have let me ride into the creek? Why didn’t he help me out? It was like my new best friend had completely deserted me. It took me some time to rebuild my riding confidence again, but when I did, Murray was there and it was just like old times.
As you all may know, I recently purchased a new bike, a Honda Dream Motorbike, to be exact. After riding him around for a bit to learn his personality, as well as completing some research into literary characters and names, I have officially named him Bixby. Bixby is periwinkle in color, and therefore a bit androgynous in nature. I wanted a name that exudes this aspect of his personality – masculine with a strong hint of femininity. Pat seemed too easy. After reading and re-reading Dr. Seuss’s classic, Oh, The Places You’ll Go, I decided that Bixby was the most suitable name for my new motorbike. And so, I knighted him Lord Bixby. Bixby has been a great trooper these past few weeks. We get on the open road together and set out to wherever he or I think is most suitable. He does like to play this little game with me called, “Empty or Full?” Basically, he will stay on F for about 5/8 of a tank, and then like any good alter boy, he will slowly begin to drop to his E. To counteract this game, I have quickly learned that he does about 150 Kilometers on a tank. There’s no fooling me!
Freshly fueled, Bixby and I decided to take a trip up to the damn. Not sure what I was expecting, but the Hoover Damn, this was not. It was more like a beaver damn. To get to this disappointing sight, it required a side road that you take off the highway for about 10km. The road was average at best, with some major potholes and gravel from the mining trucks that come through the area. Add to this the slickness from the rain, and it is anything but good driving conditions. Armed with my backpack, rain gear, and my maps, I think I’m fully ready for whatever the road may throw at us.
travels so far on a fresh tank of gas, we decide to head back the way we came. I climb aboard my faithful travel companion and set forth. I make it not even 5 more feet from where I was parked, and down I go. A top speed of maybe 5km, and I find myself lying side-by-side next to Bixby. Always one to bounce back up from an injury, I quickly stand to survey the damage. I have managed to give myself quite a few knocks and scrapes along my left arm, with the palm of my hand taking the brunt of the damage. As always, I had jeans on, which saved my legs fromOn our way back, I quickly stop on the “bridge” to see if there are any good shots worth taking before we head back to the city. Wanting to explore further, but realizing that Bixby only additional damage. Freaked out, I began to cry. Crying seemed like the best possible option at that point, though I knew it was not accomplishing anything productive. Tears running down my face, bleeding from my hand, and still freshly shook up from the whole experience, I wanted to leave Bixby laying in the road and walk home. A pick-up truck came by shortly thereafter to ask if I needed any assistance. Wiping the tears from my face with my dirty, bloody hands, I asked for some assistance with picking Bixby up off the road. The man obliged me, and offered me a napkin from his truck. He checked to make sure Bixby was running fine, still started, and left me to my own devices. They say those that forget the events of the past are doomed to repeat them. There was a point where I thought I would walk hand-in-hand with Bixby all the way back to Lampang. It was my first instinct at that point. Instead, I cleaned myself up as best I could with this napkin, and hesitantly climbed back on Bixby. Still shaking, we shifted into gear, and slowly began our journey home. For the remainder of the ride down this dirt road, we proceed at a top speed of about 15kpm (9.3 mph).
I swear there was a moment where I wanted to leave Bixby battered and bruised on the side of the road – the same he had left me. It was nearly 21 years later, and I was still on the side of the road crying because I fell off my bike. Sounds silly, until you’re there reliving the same moment from your past. But as we grow older, we realize that our mother isn’t there to pick us up again, or walk us home. We need to do it for ourselves – pick ourselves up off the road and make it home – no matter how far, or how hurt. So, during the slowest ride back to Lampang, I shared my memories of Murray with Bixby, in the hopes that he would be interested in starting new memories with me. Upon our return home, we agreed no matter how much we fall down, no matter how much it hurt, we’d always be there to pick each other right back up. And that is how I met my Knight in Shining Armor.
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