When it comes to memories of my childhood, nothing seems more suiting than the rides on my bicycle on a hot summer day. I would toss on my bathing suit and a pair of jeans (it was as close as I could get to going topless, with the sun beating down on me), grab that well worn work-horse, and blaze down from the top of the hill, stop signs be damned. Other kids could ride their bikes, but when I climbed on mine, I'll swear those wheels grew wings.
The summer that I turned 12, I spent more time along the roads between The Reptile Store (not officially titled, but so named in every conversation I've had since discovered) and my home than I can remember spending on any road since. I would pedal until my legs went numb and my lungs would ache, arrive sweaty and grinning; independent, surrounded by lizards, and utterly, completely, free.
I did nothing of real consequence; I bagged crickets, rang up customers, stacked aspen, harassed the animals... I'm sure that I had plenty that was bothering me (I was twelve years old, what preteen doesnt?) but really, what I remember most, was being happy.
I started this post to talk about my bike; these days I have a newer model - still black, neon green, and entirely 'too' masculine for a lady as small as I am. It weighs 33 lbs - literally a third of my weight - is designed to be used on the mountains and not - as I most frequently use it - on the streets. I started with the intent to talk about my bike, and when I started talking about my bike, my memories spun out on me - I was back at the reptile store; carefree, awkward, 'independent' in the way only a 12 year old with a summer job can feel... I was laughing with Sean (all knees and elbows then, a drop dead gorgeous man these days), sitting on the counter above the pair of water monitors, antagonizing a rattlesnake in the attic... I thought I started this post to talk about my bike, and as it turns out, that wasn't what I wanted to talk about at all.
I started this post to return to freedom; that place that always exists, and we forget how to touch.
I rode my bike tonight; I went for a jog this morning. I brought my snake with me to work, and I had breakfast with my family before we went our separate ways. I sat in the sun on my lunch break, I read about forgiveness, and - for the most part - I brought myself back to the summer of 12; I brought the summer of 12 back to me.
What brings you to 'free'?
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I miss being a kid again, but what really brings me to 'free' is flying. It's hard to explain the feeling of being at least 5,000-ft off the ground, flying a small prop airplane. I miss flying, and it makes it even difficult that I work for a flight school. I'm hoping to get back up there again one of these days, and take Craig up with me, too! :) You're more than welcome to come, if you want hehe.
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