One evening here recently I rode Thunder to 7-11 to grab some treats for Joey to munch while he was studying. I try to motivate him to study by spoiling him rotten with goodies. (I’m not sure it works, but I know it gives him a stomachache.)

Joey is much less fearless than I, particularly in the realm of bike riding. Two years ago when we bought Thunder, I was too scared to turn the corner quickly, much less pedal as fast as I could or ride down a curb. And I would definitely not ride up a curb because that seemed next to suicide in my book. I mean – the likelihood of completely wiping out seemed to increase exponentially.

I kind of grew out of some of this once we bought Thunder, but it took forever. Joey and I would ride along the side streets near our little apartment in Ankeny and he’d teach me how to turn corners quickly. It was a slow process because I’d chicken out and start squealing, then straighten my wheel out and say “I can’t do it, it’s too scary!” every time. Eventually I figured it out, though. I’d even ride down curbs — talk about a major accomplishment.

Since we’ve had Thunder back in Texas, it has taken me awhile to get awesome at bike-riding gumption. (I still can’t turn fast without squealing and bailing out.) But on that evening when I went to the store, I decided I was going to be awesome. I was almost back home when I decided that this was going to be the day that I, Jenna Woestman, rode up a curb.

Think of how proud Joey will be when I tell him how brave I was! I motivated myself.

I picked the least-steep curb I could find, lined my bike up, and pedaled as fast as my little legs could carry me. The curb neared and then — THUNK! I rammed into it at nearly full speed, jostling and jolting as the force of slamming into the curb somehow carried me and Thunder up over it. Somehow, I stayed upright.

The force of impact concerned me that not only had I completely screwed up riding up a curb, but I’d bent my front wheel as well and we’d have to pay to get it replaced. Joey was not likely to be proud of me if that was the case.

I got off my bike and surveyed the damage, but I really don’t know what I’m looking for. So I carried it back upstairs and went in the house with a very, very sheepish look on my face.

“What did you do?” Joey asked me.

“Well, I tried to ride up a curb, but I think I did it all wrong.” I explained to him how I’d rammed right into it and he just looked at me and shook his head.

“Oh Jenna…you’re supposed to kind of hop up over it, not drive into it at full speed. I’ll show you next time.” he offered, trying not to laugh at me.

“No way. If it involves any tires leaving the ground at any time, I am not doing that. I will walk my bike up curbs, thank you very much. I don’t want to die.”

So maybe someday Joey will try to instruct me in the finer points of curb-jumping, but if I were him I probably wouldn’t waste my time. I think I’m unteachable.