The bike rack by the school always full and all too often with rigs that were in serious disrepair. So, I raised some funds, fixed a few, bought some used whips and gave them away. I knew it was a bandaid solution though; George Street is a community school, not one rooted in a neighbourhood, and urban in all the best ways – multicultural, socio-economically diverse, with a continuously growing population. Handing out one bike at a time was futile and endless.

The idea at its core was to make sure that kids got on bikes, that they felt confident riding, that they knew the trails and pathway etiquette, that they made new friends, and that they learned the basics of bike mechanics and repair. I sought further funding and bought more wheels, brought kids in and showed them how to fix theirs up, and then went ride after ride and ride with them. I watched as interest grew, as bonds formed, as their cares washed away with miles ridden. The joys of biking are many and often waxed about and rarely understood – because, really, who needs to understand something that can be felt?