Way back when, after my first trip to Key West, my kids bought me this beach bike for Mother’s Day.

In Key West my rented beach bike inspired me to step outside my normally serious and stoic box of wife and mother and into one of adventure and fun. I would explore many avenues, both literal and figurative, on that rented bike. Having a beach bike of my own in New Hampshire would serve as a talisman of sorts. It was, in a way, my magic carpet taking me to lands far away and into a distant future.  I vowed to ride my beach bike in New Hampshire until the day when, after I moved south, I could ride it on the beach.


My beach bike is a teal green Trek. It has coaster brakes and two speeds – sitting down and standing up the latter being essential anywhere in New Hampshire and up the incline approaching the Intracoastal draw bridge here in Florida.

It’s got two bells. One sounds like an ice cream truck and the other has the ring of a traditional bike bell but is painted in vibrant colors in a wild design. That one I bought on one of my many trips to Ocracoke Island, North Carolina to serve as a reminder of my life on that beach. Since I can’t decide which ring I like better, I usually ring them both at the same time. This in itself is quite a challenging feat as both bells are mounted right next to each other on the left side of the handlebars. Try positioning thumbs awkwardly while maintaining balance all the while trying not to run over the people you’re alerting to your presence!

The basket up front has held everything from groceries to a cat named Duncan who liked to ride around town with me. That is until a guy in a souped up mid 1970’s Charger startled us both with his squealing tires and loud exhaust.

The book rack on the back has never held a single book. Now it’s a comfortable place to carry my beach chair tied down with a purple bungee cord. Until recently, a Conch Republic flag and a windsock flew from a fishing pole I mounted onto the frame with pipe clamps.

When my daughter Zoe took the above photo of my beach bike on this quiet road in New Hampshire, I had already made the decision to move south the following summer. She took the picture because she wanted me to always remember where I had come from once I got to where I was going.

Getting here took longer than I ever imagined. The truth is I’ve wanted to live in Florida since I was a kid. (It’s a story chronicled in an essay I wrote many years ago called Taking The Iguana Home.) So, when my friend Joe sent me an email the other day complimenting me on my courage to start my new life it didn’t seem like courage at all, just a natural extension of my life.

Joe wrote:

“I remember the last time we spoke with fondness. You were anxious to get started, but it was good anxiousness. You were fortified with desire and courage.  And make no mistake, it requires a great deal of courage to up and relocate one's entire life. And confidence. Most people are not blessed with those qualities.”

 I said: “Huh? Really? Most people aren’t blessed with the qualities of courage and confidence? Well that’s too bad. They should be. And this is why, in part, why I write these stories – to encourage people into their own courage and confidence.

My wish for you today is that you find the confidence to step into your own courage to make your dreams come true. I did it. You can too!

 


My bike in Florida this fall, 2008.

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Copyright 2008 Diana Taylor
Photo credit: Beach bikes by Zoe McGuire and Diana Taylor

For cut & paste:

http://www.pugatthebeach.com/beachglass.htm (Taking The Iguana Home)