My first bike was a trike, that I remember. One wheel in front, two in the rear for balance. I was probably 3 or 4 then photographed in my hometown, Palompon, with our black dog which my dad ironically named Whitey.
On my 7th birthday in Cebu, my dad gave me my first proper bike. Sky blue frame, chrome plated curved handlebars with tassels at each end of the bar grips and a shiny silver bell to match.
I don’t remember riding with training wheels but I do recall having a go in the Briones compound in Sikatuna with my childhood friend Gifford, ruffled hair blown by the wind, no helmet of course!
The movie ‘RAD’ popularized BMX bikes as mainstream mode of transportation for every teenage boy out there in the mid-80s back in Palompon and my second bike was all that– ‘double body’ frame (two top tubes, if you can imagine that), shiny silver with hard plastic seats. I rode every day back in primary. I could never do tricks but my classmate, Ramil and I, could ride distances with “no-hands”. As expected, we crashed a few times. On weekends, I would ride around town with Andrew, another classmate, usually after lunch.
Fast forward to 2016. Location: Bowral, NSW in Australia. Twenty five plus years since I’ve been on my BMX. I am now in a steed. It’s a mean machine they call a road bike. It’s aero and it’s fast, says the salesperson. Whatever, mate! Together with a few friends, we registered for the Bowral Classic, a mass participation cycling event supporting cancer research. I am climbing a section of the 120-km distance called ‘airport drive’. And this is where it gets exciting.
After a roller coaster 80 km, you get to this section fairly tired and drained. Your legs are heavy as lead and you have this mountain to climb. It is 1.2 km long with an average gradient of 11%. And the sun bears down on you like an angry ghoul.
Some of the riders were already getting off their bikes and had started walking up the steep gradient. I climbed like Contador imagining myself dancing on the hills with ease. Halfway though I suddenly felt the present. I felt old. And like the domestique (cycling’s grand tour helpers) that popularized the phrase “Shut up, legs!”, I felt my bike was doing the shouting. I surrendered. With a heavy sigh, I walked and pushed it all the way to the top. My bike needed a break anyway (wink).
But what a ride! Rolling hills, scenic valley views of wine region Bowral and surrounds, and the entire road to yourself. The finish was punctuated by a quick lap around Bowral’s Velodrome and local cold draft beer!
Riding on two wheels brought back carefree memories of old. I’ve enjoyed stunning views and lookouts where my road bike has taken me– the M7 Cycleway, Hawkesbury Lookout in Springwood, Springwood Town Centre, Freeman’s Reach, Westhead Lookout, Akuna Bay.
On another mass participation event, the 2018 MS Sydney to Gong ride has taken me to parts of the winding Royal National Park, picturesque Bald Hill Lookout in Stanwell Tops, through the impressive structure that is the Sea Cliff Bridge and onwards to coastal town Wollongong for an 83-km journey.
I’ve rekindled my passion for bike riding. The wheel, I think, is one of man’s greatest inventions. And the bicycle, 198 years old, is a proud product.
This tour on two wheels will continue.
Marc Viax 
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