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Personal Writing My First Time Experiencing Riding

Personal Writing: My First Time Experiencing Riding A Bicycle Essay, Research Paper Personal Writing: My First Time Experiencing Riding A Bicycle Sangho Kang

Personal Writing: My First Time Experiencing Riding A Bicycle Essay, Research Paper

Personal Writing: My First Time Experiencing Riding A Bicycle

Sangho Kang

After a very meaningful conversation with my dad about the old days, we

came up with an object that we both remember cleary. It was my very first

biclycle. My mind told me that I got it when I was only eight but my mom

insisted that I was seven when I got it. Either of us had a proof, and so we

desided that when I got it was not important.

My dad put together all the small pieces of the bicycle. From a

beautiful material that he called, “Your own car.” Of course I knew that he

had some magical ability, but I didn’t think he could make such an awsome

object. He added the seat and the pedals. Last so that I would not have any

problems.

My dad recalled that the bicycle was the smallest he could find. I

remember how gigantic it was. I was so afraid of it and there was no way that

I was going to control that monster-sized material. The bicycle remained in my

backyard as a decoration for a month because I refused to ride it. Honestly,

I was scared to try it.

After a month, my dad gave me a lecture to teach me what being a man

was all about. I was finally determined to try it. My dad was proud of me and

I felt very manly. He and I went to the park to see what we could do there.

The park was empty when we arrived. I had no dought that my dad told

everybody not to be there because we had to use it. I felt badly for other

people, but I was proud to have such an onnipotent person as my dad.

We found a smooth and a often space. My dad was holding the rear of the

seat to make sure I didn’t fell. He assured me that I was not going to fall

because he would be running right behind, holding the bicycle. He reassured me

by saying that it was the word of a man and I could trust it.

I started to pedal and the bicycle moved. Once it started to move, I

felt pedaling was much easier than expected. I asked my dad if it would be as

easy to ride a bicycle without him holding on it. He did not answer me because

he couldn’t run, hold the bybicle, and talk at the same time. I told him we

could stop if he was tired. Again, he did not reply. I turned to see if he

was feeling O.K. I saw him, except he wasn’t where I expected him to be. He

was about fifty yards away from where I was. Then I lost control and fell. I

cried but no one looked at me because…well…no one was there.

He ran over and said he forgot that he wasn’t supposed to let me ride

the monster by myself. After I was done crying, he told me there was nothing

more he could teach me. He said that if I could ride it the way I rode it for

that fifty yards, I had no problems.

I practiced for a few more hours and I was pretty good. My dad told me

I was the fastest learner that he had even seen. I told him that he was the

best teacher that I’d even met. We came home hand in hand as if we were best

cronies.

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