Bicyclist on two or three wheels. As long as you are at ease on a bicycle
At the parking lot outside we practice steering, braking, getting on and off the bicycle and keeping her focus straight. I’m wondering what’s the difference between this and the school for racing-cyclists. There is barely a difference.
The way Harmen works with bicyclists isn’t much different from the way Jurgen works with cyclists on a tricycle. He strictly forces my mother to focus, but is simultaneously kind to her. With his endless patience and humor he keeps my mother’s heartbeat on a normal level. Harmen wants to teach someone to enjoy race bicycling (again). Jurgen wants my mother to be at ease on her bicycle again.
This is something the average race-biker, with his expensive equipment, funky outfits, focus in the distance (not to say compulsively) and high speed, could learn from.
What is the difference? Nothing is different about the class itself, conquering ones fears, abolishing old habits, or about the world that unfolds itself to her with every extra meter she perserveres.
My mother is wound tight, her little knuckles are white and her feet keep reaching for the floor anxiously. The name “Easy Rider” is brought up again. The bicycle supports her like a tendril supports a plant. Slowly but surely her confidence grows and she keeps her feet on the pedals.
Jurgen lets her ride through the factory to boost it even more: a little track! Van Raam is wonderful Dutch manufacturer of which everyone from de Achterhoek is very proud. This is appropriate because their products are absolutely wonderful.
All these impressions invite my mother to start bicycling little by little.
Mrs. Van Zandbrink tries the Easy Rider tricycle. She is aided by Jurgen, one of Van Raam’s employees (photo: Lilian van Zandbrink)