My son Jack is three and we’ve bought him his first ‘big’ bike.
It’s a big step for any man, the beginning of the long road to independence, or freedom if you will.
Crash pads, all-terrain tyres and ‘Stunt Pro’ graphics all contradict the giant stabilisers. But the look on a child’s face when they first feel the sensation of racing up to speed and seeing the world whizz by is priceless. Naked wing-walking would be the same for you or I.
He’s also mastered this slightly gormless/excited look as he scoots by. Inside his head, his brain is saying ‘weeeeee, I’m flying’, whilst his wind-pummelled face resembles a basset hound hanging his droopy chops out of a speeding car window.