My first bike was a red hand-me-down from my brother. I am quite certain that it was at least two sizes too big for me and in those days there were no training wheels, just two tubeless tires. I didn't know what I was doing, but he was more than happy to push me along the crack sealed paved road and let me ride as fast I could. I didn't know how to stop, I couldn't put my feet down on the ground. So, of course, I crashed. I was battered and bruised, but it was the best moment of my life and I knew I wanted to ride from that day forward.