Crash!

The red X marks a spot I'll never forget as long as I live.

The beginning of lunchtime was always a madhouse around Eastlawn Elementary with all the kids let out at once to race home for lunch. I was in a crowd of bikes that had just crossed Jefferson, racing up E Nelson. As soon as we came around the curve I saw our way was impeded by a parked car -- and I was trapped on the inside of the crowd, against the curb. I couldn't get the others to move left for room, the frontage between the sidewalk was blocked by a tree and the sidewalk was filled with kids who'd crossed in the previous group across Jefferson, so I jammed on the brakes hard and... nothing much happened. I slammed into the car.

Next I know I'm on the ground, pretty banged up, my bike is a twisted wreck, and the owner of the car comes out to check that I'm okay. Then he drives me and my bike home, and makes sure I'm safely in my mother's care before leaving. (Are Midlanders still like that? That's the kind of people I remember them being.)

I don't remember much after that though I'm sure it included a trip to the doctor. (Hm. I may mention him later.) But I had told my father the day before that the brakes weren't working right. He hadn't checked them then and felt so bad about it he took me right away to buy a brand new bicycle.

My cycling days are over, unless we buy a house where I can start cycle-commuting again, but ever since then I've always tried to keep an exit route in case something goes wrong. I will visit the spot.