One of the fondest memories of my childhood was riding a bike. That feeling when the wind touches your face, that rebellious streak you get when riding on cemented roads (even though your Mom told you not to.) That moment you fantasized you were one of the pros when tackling that (tiny) hump or pile of gravel in your backyard, or perhaps the freedom one feels when driving alongside motor vehicles on a busy highway.
I remember when I was about 6 years old, I had this little blue bicycle with three small wheels (a tricycle?) Now as I think about it, I think it was originally one of my older sisters'. Being the youngest in the family, I got to keep their toys after they've grown out of them. I had an extreme aversion to dolls anyway, but the cool ones I got to keep for myself (like Papi, a malnourished brown teddy bear, which was my Tita Neneng's originally.)
Last November, as soon as I got hold of my terminal pay (after waiting for 3 months!), I was decided to relive one of my childhood memories- so I bought myself a mountain bike. :)
