Unlike his neighbor Ryan Mason, Gus isn't ready to ride a tippy, slippy, floppy, falling-over bike without training wheels. When he has difficulty negotiating the shiny five-speed bike his parents buy him, he feels terrible. Then his beloved Grandpa has an idea: Grandpa substitutes the bike Gus' dad used when he was a boy, a bike with nice, thick tires, for the fancy racer. As in other books in this charming early chapter-book series, wise Grandpa knows just what to do. The words, laid out on the page in short, generously spaced lines, will be easy for newer readers to grasp, and Catherine Stock's muted watercolors ably show the anxiety, the fear, and the flush of success related to a common childhood event. The subject is right on target for the age group, and the intergenerational relationship is a sweet bonus. (Reviewed February 1, 1999)

Anyone who's ever wobbled on the bike path of life will appreciate this latest entry in Mills's Gus and Grandpa series. Once again, it's Grandpa who understands, here about Gus's reluctance to give up the security of training wheels. Mills conveys strong sentiment without a trace of mawkishness, and Stock's illustrations in loose line and watercolor augment the story of this childhood rite of passage expressively.

Gus and Grandpa (Gus and Grandpa Ride the Train, 1998, etc.) return, this time to tackle that classic coming-of-age moment: when the training wheels come off. Gus is a happy cyclist until Ryan, new in the neighborhood and about Gus's age, rides by on his racing bike and asks Gus why he still uses training wheels. Gus loves his training wheels, which stabilize an otherwise "tippy, slippy, floppy, falling-over bike." Gus's father asks if Gus wants to remove his training wheels; Gus says no. In a rather interfering manner, his father buys him a new bike that proves to be Gus's nemesis. He keeps crashing, and has the banged-up knees to prove it. Grandpa has an idea. He rolls out Gus's father's old bike, a sort of intermediate model between training-wheels and Gus's new bike. Then Grandpa holds on to the back of the seat as Gus rides around a parking lot a "million" times and starts to feel the wind in his sails. Sweet and mellow: Mills (and Stock, of course) hits the right degree of fear without having to revert to terror to delineate the importance of Gus's act, and Grandpa is no saint, just a gentleman who understands the notion of patience'something his son is still working on. (Fiction. 6-9)

K-Gr 3-Fans of the previous beginning chapter books in this series, which include Gus and Grandpa (1996) and Gus and Grandpa at the Hospital (1998, both Farrar), are sure to welcome this addition. When Gus balks at removing the training wheels from his bike, his dad tries to win him over with a fancy new bicycle that has five speeds, hand brakes, and a water bottle with its own holder. After more than a few crashes on his new wheels, Gus decides to return to his steadier old friend. Then Grandpa has an idea that leads the duo to spruce up Gus's father's old bike and head to an empty parking lot. Teamwork and practice blended with the boy's growing confidence soon have him riding on his own. Readers will identify with the youngster's fear and reliance on the training wheels. Gus's worries are never trivialized and his family and friends are supportive. Stock's muted watercolors nicely reflect both the plot's elements and the close bond between grandfather and grandson. A charming look at a rite of passage for many young children.-Maura Bresnahan, Shawsheen School, Andover, MA