As a kid was there anything as fun and fulfilling as riding around with no hands on the handlebars?
In the earliest days of riding it provided the best way to freak out your parents: Always a major goal for a kid.
LOOK MA! NO HANDS!!!
I’m not sure where it came from, but as a kid we had a unicycle hanging in the garage for as long as I can remember.
My older brothers were accomplished gymnasts, yet I never saw either of them ride it.
Hmmm. The opportunity to one-up my bros AND freak out my parents? I was in.
It didn’t take long for me to get the hang of it, and I spent a full summer just riding the unicycle around the neighborhood thinking I looked cool — never realizing what an 80-pound stick figure looked like on one wheel.
After that Junior High and High School quickly arrived and bike riding and unicycling got shelved for cooler forms of transporation.
After college I started riding my bike again. In a few weeks I started to feel comfortable. One day after a whopping hour-long ride, I decided to top off the ride with a little no-handed fun. I nearly killed myself.
I couldn’t ride no handed. Nada.
I kept trying, occasionally when no one was watching. Every time my front wheel went whacky and I almost died.
Many years later, a unicycle popped up during my stint at VeloNews. I hopped on. Viola! No problem.
That’s when it hit me!
Whenever I take my hands off the handlebars, my muscle memory reverts to unicycle mode. My ass moves back with my weight to balance over the rear wheel leaving the front wheel to act like most grocery cart wheels.
Funny thing about muscle memory, at least for me, I can’t seem to forget it. I still can’t ride no handed.
This week’s question: What’s your craziest Look-Ma-No-Hands story?
I don’t recall any “look ma, no hands” bicycling stories but a few motorcycle-related “oh, yeah, hold my beer” stories that I would prefer to not discuss, lest I encourage others. Somehow, I survived those.