One of the things I’m most thankful to my dad for is teaching me how to ride a bicycle. It’s the only thing I’m still able to do on wheels. It’s come in particularly handy in adulthood biking around the city walls of Xi’an, ruins of Angkor Wat, between the hills and farmland of Yangshuo and the busy streets of Shanghai. We would go weekends to the track at Wheaton College and practice. I was not a fan of my bicycle though as it was purple with rainbows on it and perhaps a unicorn too. I remember waiting for the day my legs were long enough to take over my sister’s ten speed instead. My dream bicycle now would be one with a basket and character.
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