Before we had road bikes,
We had mountain bikes.
Supercycle’s and CCM’s.
Mountain bikes were the wings of a 10-year-old.
They were freedom.
They were autonomy.
Mountain bikes were friendships,
They were the way you got to the park on time.
Mountain bikes were the fastest way to secure a fresh $2.50 pizza and pop combo.
They were a mini van on 2-wheels.
They transported hockey sticks,
And cricket stumps,
And baseball bats.
Mountain bikes were a joy ride with friends before we got a drivers license.
Whether on the front handle bars,
Or sitting on the back seat,
Or even popping wheelies.
They were your legs to Dhur,
And Asr,
And Maghrib,
And on one of those really good days, Esha too.
Mountain bikes,
They kept us on top of our prayers,
In fact, they taught us what it meant to rush to the masjid,
When we’d lock our bikes to our friends’ they taught us friendship and community.
They taught us patience when we had 3 other bikes locked to ours.
They taught us compassion when we’d let a friend borrow our bike if he had to rush home.
They taught us loss and empathy when a friends bike was stolen,
Mountain Bikes taught us how to work with our hands, whether it was a flat tire, or loose chain.
They taught us what it meant to tie our camel, or in this case to lock our bikes.
They taught us punctuality when they got us home right when our parents told us to.
They taught us appreciation, and the hard work our parents put in at their multiple jobs to buy us bikes.
They taught us care, and how to be grateful because it was what our parents could afford.
But looking back, they taught us how naive we really were.
Supercycle? CCM? It didn’t really matter.
Mountain bikes taught us life as 10 years olds.
And for that, we appreciate you.
VASIM KAPADIA 