My Big Red Bike I was twelve years old and other than a tricycle as a toddler, I had never owned a bike. Even worse, I couldn't ride one. I wanted more than anything to enjoy the freedom of riding a bike; going long distances in less time, getting out of the neighborhood, exploring new places. Then, out of nowhere, a friend of the family gave me their daughter's old bicycle. A red bike with fat tires, heavy and clunky and very BIG. Hey, I didn't care that it was 'retro', I figured that this thing was going to crush me the moment I fell off considering that I couldn't balance. I would try and I would be bruised, perhaps more pride than body. Both of my brothers had learned to ride on their friends' bikes and then bought bikes of their own. They didn't teach me. Neither did my parents or friends. Back then, it was something that you learned on your own. If you wanted it bad enough, you did it! OK, but my big bike just seemed too big. I felt humiliati...