A picture I found on the internet, recalled the very few times of me being on a bicycle in Beijing when i was still a little. 
There are some memories of me riding a kids bike chasing around with friends in the neighborhood, i lost the balance with a friend on my backseat, i fell on the ground, i hit on the telephone pole. 
Grandfather used to take me to the market on bike, on our way home the deep fried vegetable balls hung on the handlebar with the rhythm of pedaling, the wheels just couldn’t get fast enough for my craving. 
There was a day my aunt decided to train me how to ride on the real road with traffic. We rode a long long ride, up and down from one hill to another, crossing the tunnels, every once a while it was hard to see from the dust on the ground while the cars passing by.

As the road got dominated by more and more cars in the speedy changing city or it was my extra worries and unnecessary fears as growing up, riding a bike independently wasn’t really happen until i found my second home Portland. 
Getting on the bike, feeling the wheels and still carrying the initiate bike lesson from my aunt, it always means a lot. #pdxlostandfound