Learning to ride a bicycle
Greg Sneath
Greg Sneath describes how he helped his daughter Katrina learn to ride a bicycle.
Sneath G. Learning to ride a bicycle. Down Syndrome News and Update. 2003;3(3);94-95.
doi:10.3104/dsupdate.244
Teaching our daughter Katrina to ride had been a vague
sort of goal for several years, and we were surprised how very quickly it all fell
into place (eventually).
Initially, it was impossible to find a way to motivate
her to take an interest in riding a bike at all! She was very happy to watch all
her friends and neighbours riding, but did not want to do so herself – although
her pride and joy when she did manage it, was tremendous.
The first indication that she might eventually take to
riding came when we trialled a special 3 wheeler suited to her size. She knew it
was just for her. It was sturdy and secure. She could pedal it easily because of
the accommodating gear ratios, and her feet didn't slip off the pedals because it
had toe clips. The sales representative brought the bike to our house and she took
great delight in riding alongside her brother and sister. She managed it easily,
with just a little guidance and reassurance for the steering and braking.
Our unbounded enthusiasm for this progress was only thwarted
by the exorbitant price tag of the three wheeler. Funding can be found, apparently,
but instead we spoke to a local bicycle dealer and established that many of the
redeeming features of the three wheeler 'might' be incorporated into the standard
'off the shelf' bike. For some bikes with gears it might be possible to fit 'extender'
bolts onto the rear axle so that trainer wheels could also be fitted. (we intended
to leave it in just one easy gear) Alternatively, it might be possible to alter
the size of the front or rear sprockets to make it easier to pedal. Toe clips to
stop the feet slipping out are easy to fit on the right sort of pedals, although
if the child also wants to remove their foot from the pedal you may want to leave
the straps off, and just have the front clip to stop their foot sliding forward.
For various reasons we didn't advance far enough down those
options to justify converting the expression 'might be possible' to 'definitely
worked / failed'. Instead winter came, and so did a change in employment. We were
generally distracted from the current cycling ambitions.
Katrina Sneath riding her bicycle.
Our daughter pre-emptively took what I now consider to
be the most advisable course of using a friend's scooter instead. She was way ahead
of us, because I see now that in terms of learning balance, the scooter is far superior
to training wheels on a bicycle. I only had to watch all the other children lean
the wrong way, 'out of' the corners when trainer wheels were removed, to realise
that balance is not part of the 'training'.
So, for us, the scooter was the answer for a long while,
especially for balance. We encouraged her to glide along with her foot up as much
as possible.
Having invested in trainer wheels on a standard bike, it
was pleasing to realise they were still essential for gaining the strength to pedal,
and for learning how to use the hand brake. Indeed, I'd underestimated the hand
brake. My daughter very sensibly put her foot down and adamantly refused to ride
the bicycle, even with the trainer wheels on, until one day it occurred to me to
spend more time teaching her how to use the brakes with more confidence.
So, for a year or more, it was the scooter for keeping
up with siblings and neighbours, and also for learning balance and steering. It
was the bicycle with trainer wheels for learning to pedal, and learning the brakes
– hopefully with as little time as possible learning to lean the wrong way when
cornering. (I was unsuccessful in restricting her bike riding to straight lines
only).
Over the summer school holidays all the children in the
street were enthusiastically cycling about the limited space available to them.
A neighbouring family took all the children out for a bike ride, with my daughter
on a half bike trailer unit. She loved it, and seemed to accept the challenge that
we could all go riding places if she learned to ride independently.
She seemed confident with braking and pedalling now, so
off came the trainer wheels!
In preference to trying to hold the seat or handle bars,
I fitted an old toddler harness around her chest and grabbed a firm hold in the
middle of her back. Her balance wasn't too bad except on the corners. We practised
that for some time, occasionally with me also guiding the handle bars on the tighter
corners until she started to get the hang of it. It didn't take long.
Then came the hard part. To build confidence we sought
the long straight runs on a cycle path. I was running along side holding firmly
onto the harness in the middle of her back. It wasn't long before she didn't need
any support at all for short periods. Well, that is provided I could help get her
started, and then could grab hold when she veered off the path, and again when it
was time to stop. The independent cycling bit between times was pretty good.
Katrina Sneath riding her bicycle.
Much to the stress of my cardio-vascular system, Katrina
started riding along the cycle path, unaided for longer and longer distances, with
only the very occasional desperate lunge from me to catch her from the edge of disaster.
Before long she learned how to stop unaided, and then after a while how to set the
pedals in the right place to start unaided. Then, of course, with the long stretches
of clear runs came invaluable confidence and enthusiasm.
Daily practice saw her riding more and more comfortably
along the path with me jogging less and less comfortably along side to catch her
when needed. Her confidence developed quickly to the point that one day, she continued
on faster and faster, for further and further until I was left purple in the face,
with legs of jelly, and heaving with breathlessness, as she took great delight in
riding free and easy into the far distance in pursuit of her brother.
It was with great pride and a sense of real achievement
that I followed at my own sedate pace. She waited quietly for me just around a distant
corner, unharmed but comfortably spread eagled on the muddy verge with another cycling
enthusiast watching over her with what could be described as a very kindly air –
considering his own front wheel now lay in a twisted mangled wreck entwined with
my daughter's bike.
Katrina mastered the bicycle at 7 years of age and is cheerfully
riding independently now, but with the wisdom of hindsight we are spending time
in the open grassy parks, practising looking well ahead to anticipate and negotiate
obstacles.