English, asked by plshelp25, 1 year ago

my first bicycle ride essay ​

Answers

Answered by joelraji13524
12

Answer:

Explanation:

        I remember the day when I first learned to ride a bike. It was a frightening, yet fun experience. My granddad was the one who taught me, and he helped me when I got hurt. The first time I ever got on a bike, I had no idea what I was doing, and just about everything went wrong. The handlebars were backwards, and so was my helmet. My granddad told me to just put my feet on the pedals and start peddling. He also told me he would hold onto the back of the bike the whole time, yet he didn't.

            As soon as I started trying to balance myself, he let go. I happened to look back just as he let go. I was scared to death that I was going to fall and hur myself. When I was scared, my mind went blank from peddling, and I just wanted off. I forgot how to use the brakes and fell right off the bike. My granddad kept encouraging me to get up and try again, and after about 15 minutes, I finally stopped crying, got up and tried again. Out of all the disasters that happened, I didn't think anything else could go wrong, but of course it did.

            As soon as I started peddling again, my pants got caught in the chain, and I fell flat on my face and hit my nose. Since that happened, my granddad decided to call it a day and try again the next morning. The next morning I woke up bright and early, and very eager to try to ride my bike. My nose felt better, so I wan't that afraid of falling anymore. This time I had knee pads, elbow pads, wrist pads, and of course my helmet.

            I was all set and ready to go, when it started to rain. My granddad told me that it was still "OK" to ride because it wasn't raining that hard. When I began to ride again, everything seemed to be going good. I thought I mastered the art of riding a bike, and then all of a sudden my back tire slipped out from under me as I was turning, and once again, I fell to the ground, and began crying. I told my granddad, "I'm hopeless, because I can't even ride a bike! What is wrong wit

Answered by kapilrajsinhjadeja24
6

Answer:

Its a lil' big but pls read it. I hope you enjoy it.

Explanation:

I can still remember it as if it happened yesterday. I must have been seven or eight years old when I rode my first bicycle, and the day I learned to ride my bike is very memorable to me. Learning how to ride a bicycle can be exciting as well as painful. But I found it really exciting indeed. I was starting to realize that all of the other kids where riding two-wheelers, and I was the only one still riding a small bike with those ridiculous training wheels. I felt that it was time for me to make a transition from training wheels to a “big kid” bike.

It was my sister who taught me how to ride a bicycle “The training wheels are coming off today” was the first thing she said at the breakfast table. Mom just finished a batch of her secret ingredient blue berry pancakes with butter on top. Walking outside that morning I can remember how sunny it was and how there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was a bright warm day and the perfect summer day.  Everyone seemed to be enjoying the afternoon.

She and I went to the park to see what we could do there. There was nobody in the park when we arrived. My sister brought her bicycle and told me to sit on it and place my feet on the pedals. The bike was a blue, white seated two wheeler that had a basket in the front. The event stuck in my head because it was the first thing I can remember my sister and I doing together.

“Pedal slowly!”, she advised me while she held the bicycle and ran slowly along.

The road on which I was learning was smooth. My sister was holding the rear of the seat to make sure I wouldn’t fall. She assured me that I was not going to fall because she would be running right behind, holding the bicycle. She reassured me by saying that it was the word of a sister and I could trust it.

“You’re gonna do great!”, she said.

My sister was kind. She spent several hours trying to teach me how to ride. She did not let go of the bicycle even once. I was indeed very much excited at this opportunity to learn how to ride a bicycle. I thanked my sister for her kindness and patience. By the time I got the hang of it, the sun was going down so she said we could continue tomorrow on the stopping. At dinner my mom cooked my favorite foods, because of the hard work I put in.

The next day, again, my sister took me to a road. I started to pedal and the bicycle moved. Once it started to move, I felt pedaling was much easier than I remembered.

“Would it be as easy to ride the bicycle without you holding on it?”, I asked.

She did not answer me because she couldn’t run, hold the bycicle, and talk at the same time. Or this is what I thought. In a few seconds, I will have known the reason for her silence, but for the time being  I told her we could stop if she was tired. Again, she did not reply. I turned to see if she was feeling O.K. I saw her, except she wasn’t where I expected her to be. She was about fifty yards away from where I was. Suddenly, I felt quite giddy. I was scared to death that I was going to fall and hurt myself. When I was scared, my mind went blank from peddling, and I just wanted off. I forgot how to use the brakes, lost control and fell right off the bike.  I cried but no one looked at me because…well…no one was there.

She ran over and said she let me go because she could no longer keep up. After I was done crying, she told me there was nothing more she could teach me,  that I had learned enough. I only needed some practice now. I was extremely happy to hear this. She said that if I could ride it the way I rode it for that fifty yards, I had no problems.

I practiced for a few more hours and I was getting pretty good. But it was painful, for I fell several times and received some cuts on my hands and legs. My sister, however, told me not to lose heart. Soon I found that I could pedal some distance without falling. My sister told me I was the fastest learner that she had ever seen. I told her that she was the best teacher that I’d ever met. We came home hand in hand as if we were best cronies.

Not long after, dad bought me a brand new bicycle. It was neon-red! As soon as I set my eyes on my own bicycle I fell in love with it. I nurtured the bicycle like a baby, replacing all the worn cables, carefully oiling all the necessary parts, aligning the brakes.

Similar questions