Riding Around Your Home-Town

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 Last sunday I went for a ride in my home town. Riding around one's home town, the town one grew up in, before becoming a teenager is quite an experience. For me it was. 

I grew up in a quiet suburb outside of San Francisco. Lots of trees. Lots of leaves on lawns in the fall. Lots of sidewalks. Ramps. Creeks. Jumps. I had a little circuit that I would do and as I got older the circuit grew and grew. I recall explaining to my parents one day that I made it all the way to Broadway and soon beyond that. 

Riding past some of the old houses where I used to play. Or, where I remember crashing on my bike. Riding over the bridge, over the creek, where I used to catch frogs and I was afraid of going in the tunnel. Riding past a girls' house that I used to like, or a bully's house that I used to hate. Over a tree root that is still there and bigger, making for a better jump. past the sandwich shop, the ice cream place, the comic store. 

The breeze on my face was the same and the smells were all the same. The lines on the sidewalk seemed the same. I don't think they changed, 35 years later. 






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  • joe witherspoon