My Father was not a cyclist. I don't think I ever saw him even sit on one. He provided many a bike for us Chamberlain's, but never one for himself.
He knew how to fix them as well as anything around the house.
I once gave him the book "Bicycles and Tricycles" A 536 page book by Archibald Sharp, reprinted by the MIT press about bicycle design from 1896's. He read it in one afternoon. I asked him, "What did you think?" His comment was, "Not bad if you like pluming." He wasn't trying to be funny. He was a designer for Raytheon and had hundreds of pattens.
I don't remember him working without a "Lucky Strike" near by. He loved those things, but quit overnight when he was told to.
We were always allowed to ride. Out of town tours were common at age 6. As long as we promised to walk across intersections, we could venture into other towns, exploring at an early age. We always traveled with friends, never alone. Rides of 20 miles before I was 10 had us seeing the world on our own and at the same time giving my mom a break and a little quiet.
I remember we use to drive my father crazy going in and out of the house all day long. He put a counter on the door just to keep track for the fun of it. We broke it in short order. It's no wonder he didn't mind us riding off for the day.
I miss my Dad, I can't imagine ever riding with him, just not his thing, but he knew how much we loved it and always provided us what we needed to continue our adventures.
He would have been 96 years old on June 18th.