The fixed gear diaries

The sun is out in full effect. Perfect. Shorts, vest, loafers, Wayfarers, check. Backpack, snacks, check. I'm good to go 

The street is gleaming with happiness as I set off to pick up my bike riding companion for today. Shah. My dear friends little son. The idea had been broached to me by his mother and of course I was up for it. Bike riding in the summer sun with the kid that I am super fond of alongside me. Definitely a good idea.

I'm at his house in less than five minutes. His uncle answers and little Shah comes to the door. Ready for our afternoon together. "Nice bike," I tell him. "It's new," he replies. A birthday bike I learn. He is prepared, backpack like me with snacks for when we make a pit stop. I like it. 

Let's go. We ride up the street and eventually get to the main road. I ask him if he wants to ride on the road, he declines. He would rather ride on the pavement. Fair enough. He's only young. We ride, we talk. Conversation is nice and relaxed as cars motor along the busy lane. Pedestrians here and there get out of our way as we move forward.

The boy has basically grown up before my eyes. I almost feel paternal towards this kid as I am aware I need to look after him when he is in my company. High school looms on the horizon for him as we talk about the big transition. He seems unfazed. Almost nonchalant. 

Sefton Park, we ride through the vast, picturesque land abundant in green decorations. The fine weather has brought many to it. However, we are only passing through. It's not our intended destination. A fine brass band plays near the lake as we cycle along looking at the moving scenery and inhaling the tantalising summer BBQ smells. My senses are being treated visually and mentally with what we pass as we peddle along.

The promenade is drawing closer. We make it across a manic road and now the large gates beckon us to come in. We oblige. A long brooding pathway is our route until we get to the other side. Come on. High mighty trees, Shaded bushes and dens flank us as we proceed. We speculate as to how scary the park would be at night. Noises unaccounted for. Imagination goes round and round like the wheels on our bikes.

I tell the kid about visiting this place in my younger years when I was a little older than he was. The fun times that were had by a whole gang of young ones. Nostalgic memories filter through the mind. 

Past the impressive children's adventure ground. The cafe, the herds of people who have flocked to the promenade. It feels as though we are abroad. 

Finally, Water. The calm expansive river basking under an idyllic hot sun. The waters edge, the long, long stretch that people saunter up and down. Those who like to jog, to cycle. To sit on a bench and read. We are here. It feels good.

"Do you want to ride fast?" I ask him. He says yes. And we're off. Peddling away at a fast pace. The gentle wind blowing, the glorious sun smiling down on us. The river Mersey lying there comfortable and sedate. 

It's one of those moments I won't forget. A special little memory of him and I spending quality time together on our bikes. 

Eventually, we stop for a rest, enjoying our snacks on a small wall. Our bikes on the plot of grass beside us. We chat and soak up the lovely atmosphere. Our legs taking a break as the time skips along. People watching and talking. I glance at our bikes, they look so good in the sun. His mountain bike and of course, my fixie. 

Demola, TCC