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“My nephew, Kellan, is getting a bike for Christmas this year. I am pretty sure that he asked “The Mall Santa” for the bike and if he is good, he will get his reward. (If you get this story before the holiday, please do not let the cat out of the proverbial bag.)

Hearing about his pending gift has jolted my memory, reminding me of a distant experience that involved my first bicycle. Before training wheels, there was really nothing to get me around in the ways that I wanted to as a kid. I had my Krazy-Kar, which spun around in “krazy” circles in the same ole place. The spiral design, that covered its plastic wheels, went round and round as I pedaled fervently, making me dizzy and tiring me out. I think the Krazy-Kar manufacturers designed it to preoccupy children so that parents could have a break.

I can’t recall having a tricycle but did finally graduate from Krazy–Kar to a bike with training wheels. In all of its glory, the banana seat, a brilliant blue with metallic silver sparkles, the deep “U” shaped handlebars with royal streamers coming off each end, the blue flag that extended behind me, and the Mickey Mouse bell, all made my Schwinn mine. These Schwinns became staples for kids like me. Owning a Schwinn was a kid right of passage. My younger brother, Jon, had a yellow one. Together, we grew older, but not wiser with these bikes beneath our tushes, as we took turns acting out Fonzie and Cha-Chi roles from the Happy Days sitcom. Looking back, the experience of owning a bike that offered new found freedom was a small step in the process of becoming a man. Today these funkadelic bikes are collector’s items, auctioned on eBay for big bucks. I wonder where my Old Blue Schwinn is now…

Finally, that day came when the training wheels came off my Schwinn. As my Dad took the wheels off that had supported me during that “training period,” I was both excited and scared. I was unsure of my ability to ride solo. I was to be the first of the Rosin children to take on the challenge. My younger brother and sister looked on, as I truly became a “big brother” to them. I could read their tiny minds, “Wow. Danny is cool. I only wish I was old enough/big enough/tough enough to ride without training wheels!” I was gaining some sibling respect. Riding a bike without training wheels was, at the time, atop the list of importance for the kids in my family. Being the eldest, I always has the privilege to try just about everything first…adult things like staying awake until 8:30 to see “Ba-Ba Black Sheep” while my younger siblings had to go to sleep. I did not deserve these things; I only received them because of my age. It was good to be the King.

My royal blue Schwinn, sans training wheels, was taller than I had remembered it when it had training wheels, even though it was the same bike. My crotch was painfully smashed against the top “man” bar and as my toes, outstretched as far as possible in my Keds, barely touched the ground. My Dad held the bike up as I tried to position myself comfortably. He acted as my training wheels for a period of unsuccessful biking attempts. And finally, after a lot of patience and ego bruising, I took off on the open neighborhood street, by myself, WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS!

As a smaller kid, I had learned to seize the bull by the horns. I opted not to just ride up and down the driveway or even around the circle that fronted our home. I took off beyond my parent’s comfort zone.  Never had I escaped the close proximity of our home without the hand of an adult or within immediate walking distance. If they made electronic “zap” collars with invisible fences for kids, I am sure that my parents would have had me wear one. On a nice lot with a beautiful magnolia (climbing) tree that backed up to The Elizabeth River, our house at 4309 Duke Dr., should have been enough for any kid. I spent a lot of time in the mud puddles collecting tadpoles. We captured lightening bugs all around the house, and to the North, I was allowed to only go so far as the end of our short pier to drag up the always empty crab pots. Never once do I remember jumping in Elizabeth’s river. I had always wanted to explore what was beyond our property.

I really never went far until my Dad let go of my bike, and symbolically, whether he realized it at the time, he was, in a sense, letting go of his parental reigns on me.

I pedaled fast for fear of falling. I was so busy looking at the back tire’s lack of training wheels that I almost wrecked many times. It seemed as if I rode 20 miles that afternoon. In reality, I had only ridden around our small neighborhood, but it was beyond anywhere near I had been alone. It was about four blocks away from our house, which seemed like 5 miles, that I rode my Schwinn up onto a neighbor’s lawn. I was eyeballing a nice, hilly area that swooped down by a canal and then back onto the main road. The stuntman/daredevil/wannabe inside me yearned to take this hill on. I had been riding for 30 minutes or so, without incident, and felt on top of my newly found independent world. As I took on the steep hilly challenge, I rolled quickly down the slope and towards the canal, gaining speed and an adrenalin rush I had never felt before. I was out of control, reckless, like on the ski slopes and mountain bike trails of my world today.

What happened next has never been repeated due to what was, then, my first real slice of humble pie…I lost my footing and I fell off of my bike and tumbled down the hill. In pain, I picked up my Kenievel bones up and retrieved my bike which was just above my head on the hill. I hobbled down to the base area near the road, hoping that no one had seen my fall. Finding the flat surface on the street, I attempted to get back on my bike and ride it homeward bound. I was unsuccessful in every way imaginable. I was too short. I prayed no one had been watching my lame attempts to simply get on a bicycle. I was determined to get on the bike by myself and ride home with pride. Nearby was a small neighborhood power hut. For over 30 frustratingly sweaty minutes, I tried every way I could, by using the side of the hut for privacy and to give me the leverage needed to help get me on my bike. To no avail. It was getting dark. Assuredly the parents were worried. I had to throw in the towel. I walked my bicycle home, head hanging low, ego bruised, again.

Upon arrival, I was welcomed home, unconditionally. No one ever asked why I had scrapes and bruises and I never told. And that next day, I was back, canvassing and exploring the neighborhood and beyond on that blue banana seat Schwinn. I took on that hill that beat me that first day as often as I could, sometimes conquering it, and on other attempts, busting my ass. I found a cinder block in the shallow area of the canal that I was able to use to help me get up those times I fell down that fateful hill. The block was a saving grace and served as a “stepping stone” until I grew tall enough to get on the bike on my own.”

 It was with my bike that I found a true taste of freedom.

The festive holiday season is the best time of year to donate to the Triangle Spokes Group. Here are three great reasons to get involved and donate to the organization that gives bikes to local kids on Christmas:

1. Triangle Spokes Group benefits the local community. We often learn about the importance of investing in one’s local economy. Triangle Spokes Group benefits children right here. Make a difference for children who call the triangle home! Triangle Spokes Group receives very few donations from folks who do not live here. Plus, 100% of donations go toward the purchase of new bikes. Our board is completely volunteer and there are no overhead costs!

2. Triangle Spokes Group is a fitness-focused organization. The nation is now faced with an alarming epidemic of childhood obesity, a public health crisis that tends to target lower-income families. In addition to a less healthy and lower quality of life, childhood obesity is now a factor some employers consider when relocating. Childhood obesity has also been identified as a threat to national security due to record low numbers of eligible military applicants. Access to more physical activity can help. Make a donation to Triangle Spokes Group to give a less fortunate child a bicycle he or she can ride everyday and pass on to younger siblings.

3. Triangle Spokes Group can be an educational experience for your family. By donating to Triangle Spokes Group, you can incorporate the values of thankfulness and charity to your children. Extended family and grandparents can also get involved. Make Triangle Spokes Group a new holiday tradition this year. We understand how busy you are and no amount is too small.

Check out this video of how Triangle Spokes Group is helping children get bikes!

Serving not just as a networking opportunity for all marketing, advertising, communications and PR professionals across the market, this popular holiday event will also directly benefit the Triangle Spokes Group, a locally based non-profit organization. Throughout the year, the Triangle Spokes Group raises money to buy new bicycles for need-worthy children throughout the area, and then delivers them just in time for the holidays.

“Triangle Spokes Group is so thankful and excited to be part of this year’s Merry Mingle”, said co-founder, Jenn Nowalk. “We would not be able to deliver bikes to less fortunate kids each year without the support of the Triangle, so this is a great opportunity to expand our reach, partner with some innovative organizations and raise money to help us reach our goal—our biggest goal yet—of 500 bikes this holiday season!”

Tickets to the event are $10 for members of the hosting organizations, $15 for nonmembers and $25 for everyone at the door. All proceeds will go directly to the Triangle Spokes Group. For more information or to RSVP to this fundraising event, please visit www.merrymingle.org

A special thank you to our sponsors DocuSource, Spy Raleigh, The Oxford, Brand Fuel, Sparktivity, Magnet Video and Fragment for helping make this event possible.

I guess I should start you at the begining of this bike thing because it wasnt my idea at all. I would have certainly thought she was too young for a bike. Piper is my oldest daughter. Two going on six, but if you ask her she is four years old. Back in June we had taken a family trip to the mecca of Walmart and were getting some items for the yard. We try so hard to avoid the toy section like the plague but some jem of a child had ridden one of the bikes out of the bike section and it was sticking out in the main aisle. ”BIKE!!!!” She screams as she runs off towards the glittering plastic mini mode of transportation. She hops on and can’t touch the petals of course. But she WONT GET OFF. We tried to distract her with other plastic crap and head off to the garden center threatening to leave her in the store. She cries and cries and we had to whip out that hairy eyeball and famous mom glare to get her to cut it out. She begs and begs for a bike.

My husband and I do that thing where you and your spouse have an entire conversation using your eyes but no words while hovering just above your kids head. You see…. Piper’s birthday was just a few weeks away (late August). We decide she may as well get one then so we walk her around trying her on different sizes and checking out the bikes. She ALMOST fits on the smallest 12” wheel with training wheels. It just happens to be Hello Kitty. It is love at first site… for Piper AND for mom. Im pretty sure i cried right there in the store at the site of my independant little girl growing up right before my eyes and on her first set of wheels. So fast forward to her birthday. After a party at the zoo and enough cupcakes to crack out a whole preschool, we ride in her new little bike with a bow on it. She absolutely lights up. It was a precious moment i will always remember. But not every parent is as blessed as we are and is able to do what we were able to do and give their child a bike. But EVERY kid should have the experience that Piper got (at the ripe old age of two) …. getting a new shiney bike of your very own. Wont you help a child feel that joy? Help us give some new bikes!!!!Of course five minutes after Piper got her bike her Godparents gave her a freaking HORN! Whosoever hates their friend just give their kids a real old school bike horn. For twenty minutes she sat on her bike and AOUGAed the horn. When we tried to get her off to go outside and learn to ride the darn thing she fell off it and scraped her arm on the petal and then refused to get back on it. So, for the last two months it has sat in our garage mostly. The little kitty pouch that came in the front of it has become a holding place for her rock collection, dead leaves, some goldfish, and a small plastic Strawberry Shortcake Happy Meal toy. Until last week. Now she wants to ride……To be continued.