It seems that the Dutch, among the worlds most bike friendly inhabitants, are born with a bicycle between their legs.
Countless two-wheelers in more or less advanced state of ruin, have succeeded my first one, a sturdy grey colored fixed gear, which was too big for my 4 year old body, as I was soon to find out, collecting my first road rash.
Nobody wore a helmet in those days, let alone training wheels.
Since then I have had numerous encounters with fate, pushing my luck biking in big cities not particularly known for their bike-friendliness (Milan, Paris) only to find myself living in
Nyack, NY a little village on the Hudson a stone throw away from New York and better known as the home of the "
Runcible spoon" obligatory turnaround point for hordes of
MAMILS biking from the city and showing of their latest bike gadget whilst boasting about making more mileage then your average jetliner.
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