Hedgehog loves his new bike. His best friend Harry says he likes it, too. But when Hedgehog asks Harry to go bike riding with him, Harry says he does not want to go. Does Harry not like his friend's new bike? Or could this all have something to do with training wheels?

Hedgehog loves his new bike. His best friend Harry says he likes it, too. But when Hedgehog asks Harry to go bike riding with him, Harry says he does not want to go. Does Harry not like his friend's new bike?

I Love My Bike tells the story of a girl's first experience with her bike, and is filled with beautiful illustrations and a heartwarming message of perseverance. There's a flame on the frame and I love how it feels from my head to my heels when my feet push the pedals and the pedals turn the wheels. I love my bike. I Love My Bike is a picture book about a daughter learning to ride a bike with the help of her father. It's also about that exhilarating feeling you get when you succeed at something for the first time as a child. And, most importantly, it's about learning that when you fall off, the best thing to do is get back on again! The story is told through wonderful watercolours from critically acclaimed artist Sam Usher, with words from children's poet Simon Mole. Celebrating both family relationships and being outdoors, this is the perfect read for families everywhere.

Cycling is about joy. Sure, it takes willpower, strength, and grit, but at its core, being on a bike is all about rejoicing in the greatest transportational invention in history. I Love My Bike is a photographic celebration of the grand kinship of bicycles, a bond shared by millions of people around the world. This distinctive and affordable coffee table book for cyclists collects the best of the stories, photographs, and bicycles encountered by the authors during numerous cross-country photo-journaling trips. Readers will meet longtime messengers and hardcore roadies, casual commuters and weekend day-trippers, tattoo artists and skateboarders, bike builders and first-time owners—all of them in love with their two-wheeled contraptions. With gorgeous full-color photos on every spread, I Love My Bike delivers the trifecta of awesome for any cyclist: cool people, cool photos, and really, really cool bikes.

“An amusing friendship story that's just right for reading aloud.” —Publishers Weekly “Everyone’s indeed a winner here.” —Kirkus Reviews “A sure bet for read-aloud fun.” —Booklist Toy Story meets Cars in this sweet and relatable story that explores universal themes of friendship and growing up. Look out, world! There’s a shiny, new Bike in town. But what does this mean for rusty, old Trike? Trike is a rusty little fellow, a trusty little fellow, on three worn-down wheels. Now that Lulu has outgrown him, he’s lonely in the garage. But then a newcomer shows up. He’s shiny and big and has FOUR wheels. It’s BIKE! Gulp. Trike worries that Bike won’t know how to take care of Lulu. Bike won’t listen, and challenges Trike to a race. It’s ON! Who will win?

“Boelts lays out Ruben’s ethical dilemma and emotional turmoil without preaching, and his struggle toward the moral choice . . . is both dramatic and genuine.” — Publishers Weekly (starred review) Ruben feels like he is the only kid without a bike. His friend Sergio reminds him that his birthday is coming, but Ruben knows his family can’t afford that. So when Ruben sees a dollar bill fall out of someone’s purse, he picks it up and puts it in his pocket. But when he gets home, he discovers it’s not one dollar or even five or ten — it’s a hundred-dollar bill, more than enough for a new bike just like Sergio’s! Finders keepers, right? Presenting a relatable story with subtlety and heart, the creative team behind Those Shoes pairs up again for a story about how hard it can be to do the right thing.

A book like no other, Paul Fournel's Need for the Bike conducts readers into a very personal world of communication and connection whose center is the bicycle, and where all people and things pass by way of the bike. In compact and suggestive prose, Fournel conveys the experience of cycling--from the initial charm of early outings to the dramas of the devoted cyclist. An extended meditation on cycling as a practice of life, the book recalls a country doctor who will not anesthetize the young Fournel after he impales himself on a downtube shifter, speculates about the difference between animals that would like to ride bikes (dogs, for instance) and those that would prefer to watch (cows, marmots), and reflects on the fundamental absurdity of turning over the pedals mile after excruciating mile. At the same time, Fournel captures the sound, smell, feel, and language of the reality and history of cycling, in the mountains, in the city, escaping the city, in groups, alone, suffering, exhausted, exhilarated. In his attention to the pleasures of cycling, to the specific "grain" of different cycling experiences, and to the inscription of these experiences in the body's cycling memory, Fournel portrays cycling as a descriptive universe, colorful, lyrical, inclusive, exclusive, complete.

Dead Poets Society meets Stand By Me as 5 real 12- and 13-yr.-olds ride their bicycles 5,000 miles across America. They want to see if their country is as wonderful as their teacher says it is.

Ride past trucks, buses, and cars. Pedal past monkeys, tigers, and lions. A bike can take you everywhere.

"Martijn Doolaard traded in the convenience of a car and the distractions of daily life for a cross-continental cycling journey: a biped adventure from Amsterdam to Singapore. Leaving behind repetitive routines, One Year on a Bike indulges in slow travel, the subtlety of a gradually changing landscape, and the lessons learned through travelling. Venturing through Eastern European fields of yellow rapeseed to the intimate hosting culture in Iran, One Year on a Bike is a vivid chronicle of what can happen when the norm is pointedly replaced by exceptional self-discoveries and beautiful sceneries. Doolaard shares the gear and knowledge that made his trip possible." -- Provided by publisher.