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Motherhood

34-year-old mom learns how to ride a bike for the first time alongside her 6-year-old daughter

"I discovered that we’re never too old, too late, or too far gone to try something new."

Photo by KBO Bike on Unsplash

Mom learns how to ride a bike at 34 alongside her 6-year-old daughter.

Learning how to ride a bike is a huge milestone in childhood. Battling through the challenge of balance while pedaling and proper steering to find yourself cruising on a bike is an accomplishment to be celebrated. But not everyone can say they mastered bike riding young.

Instagrammer Sazan Hendrix (@sazan) opened up to her followers about her experience learning to ride a bike when she was 34 years old. The journey challenged her role as a mom, and how she pushed past her own ego about failure and embarrassment to accomplish her goal.

"One year ago, I learned how to ride a bike! Yup at 34, with my 6-year-old cheering me on (and teaching me, if we’re being honest ha)," she wrote in the post's caption. "I discovered that we’re never too old, too late, or too far gone to try something new. Consider this your sign. What is something you want to accomplish this year!? 🥳"

In the post, Hendrix shared that she had always been scared of riding a bike, but decided to conquer it when her six-year-old daughter Teeny decided she was ready how to learn. "Suddenly, I didn't want to just watch her do it. I wanted to go alongside her," she wrote.

So, she went for it. But it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. She struggled to learn, and that brought up an internal battle. "But I was so in my head. Every fall made me feel like a failure. I couldn't master it. Week after week, I practiced. And week after week, I got nowhere," she shared.

She continues to explain how her hardship challenged her not to give up just for herself, but also for her daughter. "I felt defeated. Embarrassed. I was moments away from giving up. But I couldn't because she was watching. So I had to keep going," she wrote. "And in the process of learning, we both fell...together. Scraped knees. Bruised egos. Wobbly starts. But I think watching me try, fail and get back up again quietly told her, 'You can too.'"

The story didn't go the way she thought. While she struggled to master riding, her daughter Teeny got it. And her daughter became her biggest cheerleader. "'Mommy, just watch me and copy my footsteps!' So I did. That same day, the day she mastered it...I humbly did too," she explained. "We rode side by side, our wheels spinning in sync, like a moment heaven had written just for us."

Hendrix goes on to describe how parents are, most times, the ones doing the teaching when it comes to their kids. But not so in this case. "My daughter taught me. She reminded me: you're never too young or too old to try something new, face a fear, or keep pedaling after you fall."

On another slide, she shares that since then, she has shared so many biking adventures with her family. The experience made her a better mom. "Best of all I get to carry this story in my pocket. Holding onto it for the days when my kids reach a mountain that feels too big. I'll get to say: 'Remember when Mom learned how to ride a bike at 34?'" she wrote.

The experience also healed Hendrix's inner child who struggled to believe she could learn to ride and made it so that her daughter Teeny got to meet the little girl inside her. "So here's your sign. Go try the thing. Pick up the hobby. Do it scared. Laugh while you learn. You're not too late. You're right on time," she ended the post.

Her vulnerable post had a huge impact on her followers.

"😭😭😭😭 I'm crying. I'm 34 and I still don’t know how to ride a bike, never was taught though I had one growing up. This is inspiring," one wrote.

Another added, "Saz, not you making me cry with this wholesome story about Teeny giving your inner child permission to learn something new. 🥹😭"

And another shared, "What a beautiful core memory that you both will always remember. 😭😭😭"

As the sun set on their first day, the men of the 25th Infantry Bicycle Corps were cold, tired, and soaking wet. And they still had nearly 1,900 miles to go.

It was summer 1896. The 20 members of the 25th Infantry, an all-black company out of Fort Missoula, Montana, had been volunteered by their white commanding officer, 2nd Lt. James Moss, to study the feasibility of using bicycles in the military, which, unlike horses, required no food, water, or rest.

Moss was allowed to lead his men on a near-2,000-mile journey from Missoula to St. Louis, Missouri. The weather was punishing, the ride grueling, and the water poisonous. The men of the 25th were selected for the experiment, frankly, because as soldiers, they were worth little to the U.S. military.


Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

But odds are you haven't heard of the 25th Infantry Bicycle Corps. Their story was quickly forgotten, barely earning a mention in the pages of history books.

But in reality, these men were unsung heroes. Don't believe me? Here are nine reasons why.

1. Before the journey, many of the men didn't even know how to ride a bike.

Only five of the 20 soldiers were experienced bicycle riders ahead of the cross-country trek. One learned how to ride just a week prior. At the time, safety bicycles (the new model with two wheels of the same size as opposed to the large wheel on the front) were relatively new and exciting.

Photo of Pvt. John Findley, one of the few men in the company with any cycling experience. Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

2. The bicycles selected for the journey were on loan and extremely clunky.

The Spalding company donated bicycles for the experiment. The bikes had steel rims and no gears (those hadn't been invented yet). Each bicycle weighed in at 59 pounds, without gear. A heavy one-speed bike is just fine on a breezy ride through the country. But these men were traveling over mountains.

Are your legs tired yet?


Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

3. You know when your grandparents say they had to walk uphill both ways? This was the journey for the 25th. Only true.

The route to St. Louis was selected because the men would encounter diverse terrain — perfect for a test of military feasibility. The company traveled from the steep slopes of Montana through the dry, sandy roads of Nebraska. They encountered snow, rocks, mud, and punishing winds. They even crossed the rivers on foot, multiple times, holding their bikes over their heads.

"We were wet, cold and hungry, and a more jaded set of men never existed," wrote Edward Boos, a correspondent for the Daily Missoulian and an avid bicyclist who traveled with the 25th to report on their experiences.

Why didn't they just ride on the road? Good question.


The 25th riding past Old Faithful at Yellowstone. Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

4. The roads were so bad, the men often resorted to riding on train tracks.

The roads that existed at the time were worn down from wagon wheels creating deep rutted paths. And when it rained, they were washed away, replaced with thick mud. Instead, at times the men rode their bikes on the train tracks, which weren't much better considering there was nothing between the railroad ties but deep holes. The men held tight to their handlebars to keep from flipping over, resulting in hand numbness and intense shoulder pain for miles.

And you thought you were sore after a 50-minute spin class.

Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

5. Each soldier carried 55 pounds of gear on his bike.

Their supplies included half a tent, a bedroll, a pair of underwear, an undershirt, socks a toothbrush, two days worth of food (burnt bread, beans, bacon or canned beef, and coffee), various tools, and a rifle. Every 100 miles or so, the men would stop at posts to refill their supplies.

The supplies were kept in white rolls on the handlebars and in small custom leather or metal pouches attached to the bicycle frame. U.S. National Archives and Records Administration/Wikimedia Commons.

6. They barely got any rest, and at times when they did, it was amid cacti.

The men rode 35 full days of the 41-day journey. Considering the terrain, there weren't many good places to stop and rest. They often made camp in fields of prickly pear cactus, though few men reported being poked.

Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

7. And, oh yeah, the water was poisonous.

Because a 2,000-mile journey on a one-speed bike isn't tricky enough, once the soldiers got to Nebraska, they were drinking from water that had dangerously high levels of alkali and even cholera.

Vapors from the dusty terrain made the men sick, too. 2nd Lt. Moss even began to hallucinate.


Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

8. Because they were black, the 25th were often considered second-rate soldiers, but they were anything but.

The 25th Infantry were one of four all-black infantry regiments created by Congress after the Civil War. The army moved the unit out west to help tame the wild frontier, where they picked up the name "Buffalo Soldiers" from the Cheyenne.

The men were given slow horses, rotten food, and shoddy gear for the task. Despite the miserable treatment and conditions, though, black companies had some of the lowest desertion rates of regiments out west. And between 1870 and 1898, 23 black soldiers were awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

9. But when they reached St. Louis, the men received a warm welcome from the city's people.

2nd Lt. Moss and the 25th were escorted to a hotel just outside of town by a local bicycle club. Later, they performed maneuvers in a St. Louis parade, where 10,000 people came to cheer for them. Sadly, not a single military officer was there to greet them.


Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

The men had done it — traveling 1,900 miles in 41 days across some of the country's most punishing terrain. Moss wanted to continue the trip and travel to St. Paul, Minnesota. But he was told to return the bikes and send his men back to Montana on the train.

Despite a successful journey, the experiment was over.

The story of the 25th Infantry Bicycle Corps is one of those unique, surprising moments in U.S. history.

After the journey Boos wrote, "This hard work was too much. It could not prove anything about a bicycle and was merely a test of physical endurance of which we had quite sufficient."

120 years later, this story is about so much more than a bicycle. It's about adventure, guts, and mental and physical fortitude. Other than the all-black cast, it has all the makings of a big-budget Hollywood movie. (I kid, I kid.)

Image via The Montana Experience: Stories from Big Sky Country/YouTube.

Learn more about the 25th Infantry Bicycle Corps from historians and their descendants in this documentary.


True
Dignity Health old

Trent Griffin got a surprise when NASA Cmdr. Scott Kelly sent him a special thank you on ABC's "Good Morning, America" — live from space.

GIF via ABC/YouTube.


Kelly, a NASA astronaut on board the International Space Station, video-chatted from the International Space Station to thank Griffin for his dedication to community service in Huntsville, Alabama, home of NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center.

Griffin volunteers with the local Juvenile Conference Committee for underserved youth, visits schools to teach kids science experiments to do at home, and is the president of the Northwest Huntsville Neighbor Association.

But that's not the only reason why the NASA commander wanted to give Griffin some praise. A year ago, he came up with another idea to engage with local children in a positive way — and it has to do with bicycles.

Griffin acquires used bikes and donates them to kids.

Griffin with some of his "bike kids". Image via ABC/YouTube.

The idea came to him when he saw a kid riding a bike with no tire on one of the wheels, says Griffin in an interview with WHNT 19 News. Then he found out the child shared the broken bike with five other siblings.

So Griffin picked up some bikes from a thrift store and restored them for the kid and his siblings.

They were really happy to have them, he says, and soon word began to spread. Other kids showed up to ask about acquiring a bike or getting their own repaired, and Griffin just couldn't say no.

But he added a catch.

In exchange for the bicycle, Griffin has the kids he donates them to sign a "contract."


Image via WHNT 19 News.

The contract asks that each kid respects their parents, finishes their homework, tries to get good grades, and maintains their bicycle. The attention and motivation seem to be working, too.

"When I went to go talk to a school at an awards ceremony, turns out one of my bike kids got the most improved behavior," Griffin shared with WHNT 19 News.

Oh yeah, and that thank you from NASA's Cmdr. Kelly? It was particularly special because of another role Griffin wears:

He's also a NASA physicist.

That's right — this guy's day job has him doing stuff like helping build a new facility for the International Space Station.

Kelly explained on "Good Morning, America" why Griffin is a hero, both in his community and at NASA:

"A lot of people look up to astronauts because we fly in space, but we really, really rely on the people on the ground ... people like yourself that help us do our job up here and make our lives safer and easier,” Kelly said. “But what I really look up to are people that do things when they don't expect any recognition. And I think that's what you do by donating your time and by getting these bikes for [these kids], and getting them to be in a position someday where they can be successful adults."

Kelly also announced that 50 brand new bicycles would be donated for Griffin to give to more local kids.

For his part, Griffin hopes what he does will inspire people to come together, he says, "as part of the village helping kids find their direction."

Giving kids the stuff they want with the training they need is definitely an idea worth passing along.

One of my good friends lost his soul mate about 20 years ago when she was on a bicycle and killed by someone who ran right into her. And one woman who I almost married has permanent brain damage from the same kind of thing (though fortunately, not as severe as many). If I know two cyclists whose lives have been irreversiby changed by cars running into them, how many more are out there?