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Your kid should be pedaling and braking well,
They should wear a helmet
they need to be under voice control (stop when you say "stop")
they need a flag on thier bike also, as they only come up to the top of the hood on most cars while riding
putting a bell or horn on the handle bars gives them (and you) a quick way to give turning directions as at this age," right "and "left" may not make imediate sense. "toward the horn side" or away from the horn" will make much more sense
they need to wear sneakers or sandals that firmly strap on, flip flops come off easily and let toes get nailed by stuff on the ground. barefoot allows toes and even the foot to get crunched or cut easily.
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Plus, with all the side-sloping sidewalks (what twit designed that, btw? the number of elderly I see with their shopping trolleys falling over because of that...) around here, the trainers mean even if he was leaning the right way, the bike still tips over. Really need to get his skills up so he can enjoy the rides even more and with fewer bruises to the shins
of course he still needs to learn to ride without training wheels so I hope this I'ble works for you, my son is developmentaly slow, so riding without training wheels at 4 was way out of the ordinary for him, but the joy he gets from it is incredible. My wife walks 3 miles a day and part of the walk is up a large hill, until he got rid of the training wheels my wife had to tow him up the hill with a rope tied to her stroller, now he is at the top way before her.
So just a suggestion, try to get a bike with hand brakes or attempt to put them on yourself.
My experience of learning to ride a bike was slightly different. This was just after the Worl WAR 2
I rode a beatup old trike until I was about 4, and then I was given a nice new green luxury model with a boot. After two weeks it went wrong, and spent the next year and a bit in the local garage, Dodd's, in Troon - they also sold bikes - and ran a fleet of buses. Meantime I had been sallying out in our back garden on my big brother's bike with feet through the bars, definitly unsafe. So the parents got me a smaller bicycle to suit my size.
This time the four of us, Mother, Father, brother George - 8 years my senior - and me burst forth on the Troon cycling scene. Ma tied my bike to hers with a length of string while Pa placed me astride the bike with feet on the pedals. George went ahead to check that the coast was clear; Mother started pulling with me steadied by Pa with me making tentative pushes on the pedals. I got used to this fairly quickly and then learned the gentle art of breaking. Meanwhile Pa caught up and we then proceeded round by the Golf Courses. Stopping was something of the reverse. Choosing a suitable spot, George and Pa, up ahead dismounted from their bicycles and arranged themselves either side of my anticipated trajectory. Mother then lost way and fed instructions back to me to slow down to keep the string tight. At the appropriate moment we stopped and Pa and Bro' caught me.
Meanwhile the posh trike was declared healthy and I had to suffer the indignity, felt all the more at that age, of crowding myself onto the trike for its last journey home - on the pavement!
Conveniently we had a visit from family members from South Africa when my second cousin, Peter, converted the trike into a trolley with the aid of a spare wheel from somewhere. I used that as a mounting block to get me going on the bike in the garden, and we were then able to go out en famille without the string with me climbing walls to mount the bike, and pretty much the reverse for stopping.
Of course, after a few days of this I mastered the arts of starting and stopping in the normal way.