FacePhalt
I remembered today on my ride in about an incident that occured when I was about 8 or 9 years old. I was riding on the handle bars of Warner's bike. Warner gave me stern warnings well in advance about keeping my feet away from the spokes as we rode home on at that time was nearly a country road. I thought I was taking heed, but one bump caused my foot to get right into the spokes and when the ankle met the fork, it was end over time and down to the ground I went smashing my face onto the pavement. A couple of cars saw it and stopped to offer help and see if I was alright. One side of my face was one big scab for awhile, but I was alright. I don't think I ever rode on the handle bars again after that.
I chose a new route to ride to work this week, which takes me through the middle of farming country rather than on the outside of it. The corn stalks are at least 7 feet high, the cotton about 4 feet, and one red chili field looks ready to harvest. I did pass a large green combine on the way this morning.
I chose a new route to ride to work this week, which takes me through the middle of farming country rather than on the outside of it. The corn stalks are at least 7 feet high, the cotton about 4 feet, and one red chili field looks ready to harvest. I did pass a large green combine on the way this morning.
Comments
I had the same learning exercise as a kid. But my experience was one of curiosity. AS I was peddling down the street, I thought to myself what would happen if I stick my bare foot into the spokes of my rear wheel. I can remember the fat wide tire on my bike screeching to a hault. I hoped off my bike to make sure no one was looking. I think I limped around for 6 week thereafter.