The biggest biking hill in several miles is an overpass where the local bike trail goes up and over a highway. It’s super steep, and a major challenge for the kids to ride up.

A few weekends back, we decided my five-year old was good enough on his bike to try it solo. I suggested it to him during the week, so he had a few days to look forward to it.

He brought it up at least once every day, asking subtle questions like “is it scary?” and “what if I crash?”

When the big moment came, he powered his way to the top of the overpass. He didn’t look up once during the climb, didn’t pause, or encounter any sort of trouble as he went. Eyebrows down, jaw clenched, he just pedalled determinedly to the top.

Once there, we waited for his older brother and mom to join us.

“It’ll be fun,” I said to him.

“Yeah,” his big brother added. “It’s great!”

“Put your brakes on if you have to,” his mom said. “Don’t crash.”

“Nah,” I said. “Just go for it. It’ll be great.”

He nodded once, still very serious, and then headed for the downslope. He zoomed down the hill silently, getting faster and faster as he went, until he reached the bottom, where he glided along the trail and slowed to a more reasonable speed.

The rest of us pedalled after him.

“Hey,” I called as I caught up to him. “How was it?”

He looked at me, smiling from ear to ear. “That was great!”

The thing that gets me is how different it was from his brother’s adventure over the same hill. Click here to read that.