Tag: training-wheels

A Small Step

October 26th, 2026

“That’s one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.”

That’s the quote from Neil Armstrong as he took his first step onto the surface of the moon back in 1969.

“I did it, Grandpa!”

That’s the quote from Asher as he rode his bicycle without training wheels for the very first time yesterday afternoon. He went as far as the length of our driveway. His feat didn’t really remind me of the moon landing when he did it. Actually, I thought about the first successful flight of the Wright Brothers at Kitty Hawk. Their ride was only a little longer than Asher’s, and I am sure those two men felt just as euphoric at their accomplishment as our grandson was with his.

Asher decided on his own that he wanted to try riding without the training wheels. Neither Karin nor I nagged him to do that. He asked me to take the small wheels off his bike, and then he pedaled from the open garage door to the street. It probably helped that there is a mild downward incline from our house to the road. After that, he wanted to ride in the street, and he briefly lost his nerve.

“Grandpa, hold me! No, not like that that! Hold on to the handlebars! I have to balance and pedal and steer all at the same time! This is hard!”

I agreed with him. I felt like that when I was learning to fly a helicopter back in 1981. Somehow, if you don’t think too much about it, it is so much easier. It’s true that you have to consciously practice for a while, and then suddenly you are just doing it. Your brain takes a break and your body takes over. That is a moment of pure joy.

Asher got back his mojo and started pedaling and steering. Then he was off to the races. I was on foot and I followed him at a distance. I did not chase after the boy. Grandpas don’t run. In any case, Asher was a thrill seeker at this point. He did not need mean near him.

My wife, Karin, came out and took a video. In our times, that is what people always do. We need to record the moment for posterity. She also yelled out advice to Asher, which he dutifully ignored. He was too busy doing to have time for listening.

Asher’s mama called him some time after that. She calls him every day, sometimes multiple times. She only gets to see him once a week, so the phone is their main form of contact. Asher told her excitedly about riding the bike without the training wheels. She was thrilled with the news but also disappointed that she had not been there to see him riding. Karin told her that she had recorded the event, and then she added,

“You can watch the video when you get out in a year or so.”

That is a small consolation. Asher’s mama is missing things in his life. I am not talking about the big stuff, like birthdays and holidays. I am talking about small steps forward and little victories. Asher is with me every day and every night, and I still miss out on some of the changes in him. Each day he is like a brand-new boy to me. How much harder it must be for his mother who only sees him briefly each week?

I missed out on a lot of things when our own children grew up. It did not help that I worked third shift and my sleep cycle was completely out of synch with the rest of my family. Even when I was home from work, I was often angry or emotionally distant. I could be physically at home, but not really there.

I spend a great deal of time just being with Asher. I am seeing things with him that I don’t remember from all those years when our kids were growing up. I am trying to get things right this go-around.

No Training Wheels

April 4th, 2026

Asher needed a bicycle. Our five-year-old grandson had one already, but it was old and getting a bit too small for him. The old bike was a gift from the neighbors across the street. It had been their grandson’s bicycle. It was blue and orange with Hot Wheels decals on it. It also had training wheels. My wife complained that the training wheels were noisy and kept Asher from listening to her when they rode together around the neighborhood. It is possible that Asher simply did not want to listen to her, but the training wheels do in fact make a racket. In any case, the old bike was no longer suitable, so Karin searched the Internet for a replacement.

She found one. There is a bicycle manufacturer in Indiana that makes rides for kids. The bikes are high quality and pricey. The bikes even have hand brakes which is kind of unusual for kids that age. Karin sent Asher’s measurements to the company, and they suggested a 20″ small bike for Asher. Asher selected a bicycle with a pink frame and aqua blue tire rims. Karin ordered the bicycle and it was supposed to get delivered by FedEx three days ago. Asher was thrilled.

The bike did not show up three days ago. On the FedEx website it showed leaving Indiana four days ago, arriving in Chicago, and then leaving there just after midnight on Wednesday morning. We assumed it would get delivered around midday. By Wednesday evening, the website still showed the package as leaving Chicago with no further update. I worked at a trucking company for almost 28 years, so I got suspicious. We live near Milwaukee. Milwaukee is only ninety miles from Chicago. If the bike was still on the trailer, then that trailer probably was not going to Milwaukee. On Thursday morning, I saw that the bicycle was in Syracuse, New York. It had been misloaded in Chicago and took an unnecessary trip of several hundred miles.

Asher was not pleased. He spent all Thursday asking when bike would come. The website said it would get delivered on Friday. We didn’t trust that. We told Asher that it might come on Friday, but it was not for sure. He still was not happy.

Friday morning was rough. The anticipation was overwhelming. About every five minutes Asher asked me, “Did the doorbell ring?”

I would answer, “No”, and then I explained that the FedEx driver usually would not ring the doorbell at a delivery. Asher replied to me,

“Well, Oma (Karin) told me they ring the doorbell!”

Okay, well, then maybe they will.

Right after lunch time, the FedEx driver pulled up and manhandled the box to our front porch. I was waiting for him. He scanned the code on the box, took a picture of our door, and said, “It’s all yours.”

I rang the doorbell for him. Asher never heard it anyway.

I let Asher know the bike was here. Jubilation erupted in the house. I followed the simple instructions to assemble the bike. It wasn’t hard, and manufacturer included a set of tools to do the job. I could have had it put together more quickly if Asher hadn’t talked constantly and given me unsolicited advice on how to do the work. I got it done.

Asher put on a jacket, shoes, and helmet. I had the seat as far down as it would go. The bike has no training wheels. It’s a big boy bike. Asher got on it and I prepared to guide the bicycle until he could it balance and peddle it on his own.

We never moved. He sat on it and said, “Whoa…wait. I am too high on the bike. I can only reach the ground with my tiptoes. I’m scared. I don’t want to ride.”

This was disappointing. He got off of the bike, and I put into the garage out of the way. I told him,

“When you’re ready, the bike will be sitting here.”

I don’t know when Asher will get his courage up and go for a ride. There’s no rush. Maybe he will be ready by summertime. The bike will be waiting for him.