Off the Cyber Shelf

I always heard growing up that Elephants never forget. I also heard that you never forget how to ride a bike. I use to think both of these were true, until I went totally blind for eight years and then regained a little sight.

It was early summer, 1996, and I was living in Athens, GA, in an old Victorian house on Brittain ave., just off of Lumpkin near the practice fields. for those who know Athens, you'll know the practice fields well, where the red Coat Marching Band rehearses, and where you get a lovely view of the athletic Center offices, in the (yes, it's a real name) Butts-Mere building.

The town was alive that summer, gearing up for the '96 Olympic Games. Soccer, Gymnastics and a few other sporting events were to be held in athens on the University of Georgia campus. Brittain Ave. was even more alive, as doctor's were able to restore some of the sight in my left eye, allowing me to see after eight years of being blind.

The trees were greener than green, the sky was more blue than blue, and I was a jolly lad learning how to see again. Yes, you actually have to learn how to see again after eight years.

After I stopped running into things (well, I still run into things, but for different reasons) I gained enough confidence to do something I had wanted to do in more than eight years.

I headed down to Dixon's bike shop on washington Street, right across from the 40-watt club. I wasn't sure where to even begin. when I lost my vision, it was all about the BMX bike or the ten speed. But now, there were all these new bikes, fancy bikes, bikes with weird names and levers that did things for extreme bikers. I just wanted to ride to stevarino’s for pizza and beer.

I opted for what I knew, I bought a basic bike worthy of taking out on the trails, but not mountains. I still had no depth perception, and thought mountains would be a bad idea to start riding around, or off of for that fact. Nervous, with all the speeding cars racing down Lumpkin Street, I pushed my new bike down the hill and up again to my home on the other side of town.

Upon getting back to the house, I realized something that played a major part in the events to come. I should have tested my own abilities before purchasing my new toy. I had, indeed, forgotten how to ride a bike I lifted up on the pedals, and within two meters was laid out across the pavement. I tried again, and again I fell. The whole process seemed alien, not right. No matter how many times I tried to ride, the speed at which the world moved toward me was so disorienting, that I would become overtaken with anxiety, cry like a little cub scout who accidentally lit his pine car on fire, and dig my head into the dirt as my room mates laughed at my failed attempts.

Needless to say, my days of riding a bike were over. It wasn't until the past week, however, that my interest in learning to ride had resurfaced, some ten years later.

It's blue, a cool ocean blue, with chrome handlebars and black chrome fenders. The tires are white walls, like an old thunderbird, and it has a bell that rivals any bell in the south Slope.

LK ordered it several months ago. Yes, it’s a sore subject. It finally came, though not with all the parts. When the parts came, there were no instructions, in fact I think the parts were for another bike. Anyways, like good adventurers, we succeeded in putting it together. And for the first time in I don’t know how long, I heard the sound of total joy. Not just any joy, but the joy like a child has on Christmas morning when the living room lights turn on and aluminate all the shadows around the Christmas tree.

To say the least, I’m very happy that the bike is finally up and running. And, if I’m lucky, maybe someone will give me a ride, if not let me try it out (in a big field, of course). Old elephant’s never forget. Though I’ve yet to see one ride a bike.



For what it’s worth, the bike I had bought was donated to a camp. Yes, a camp for blind children off the Georgia coast. Don’t worry though. They have lots of big fields and soft sand for buffering falls.

“Was that a speed bump?”
“Nope, just a gator…Keep riding. For the love of God, just keep riding.”