But these experiences (experiences like when grandma pushed me down the hill on the bike that was far too big, or when I tried to go off a curb and popped a tire on my friend’s bike) only strengthened my resolve to not ride a bike…. After a short ride (more like falling to the floor repeatedly and shaking my fist in the air) I noticed the gears didn’t work and the bike was far too big…. I had learned to balance, turn and even stop properly (Mac has still not taken to stopping in the conventional manner, he prefers to simply jump of the bike and pick it up off the floor)…. Another quickly followed behind it, I pulled up to the curb and rode very slowly but whoever was driving the car must have something against me because the driver swerved the car in. I looked in horror and tried to jump off my bike onto the curb.