So I did something very stupid yesterday. I had left my bike at church on Monday and needed to get it back to the house, and Qammi needed a walk, so we walked over to the church, picked up the bike. I hand-walked the bike to the bike path, and once there decided to ride it with her running along side. It worked for the most part, and I had a couple of near misses that I learned from. I learned to not have my hand on the handle, with the leash in it, in case she chose to stray. I learned to watch for dogs that she might want to chase.
These near misses brought up vivid memories of my bike accidents, including the one when I was 8 or 9, and I realized this many years later, that it might not have been Fleagle who ran in front of my tire. It might have been me who was distracted being a Klutz. That accident I was taking the sandwiches and iced tea to the haying crew and Fleagle ran in front of my bike and I went head over heels. I had on Mom's yellow scarf, which I put over the gash in my head, and went to the closest house, which was about 1/4 mile away, to call Mom. Where we lived was 7 miles from a town of 200 people in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. The ranch was the Lazy EH ranch. I was about 1 mile from home, and I cannot remember whether I got a hold of Mom and she came to get me, or I walked home. I do remember vividly the blood on her scarf, and the butterfly bandages she put on my gash. Whenever I see that color yellow, I see it with blood on it. So maybe it was not Fleagle's fault, as I reflected yesterday on the 2 near misses and my other 2 accidents.
The second one was about 10 years ago. I was riding my bike home carrying a plastic bag with stuff in it. The bag went between the spokes of the front wheel, stopped the bike cold and I went head over heels again. My bike helmet had pieces of gravel in it, which is a testament to wearing helmets. I took it to the youth group to show them. I doubt if any of them wear helmets more frequently because of that but one can always hope. The other sad thing that happened as I was walking up our street, with blood dripping off my face, is that our elderly neighbor met me. He did not see the blood dripping off my face, but was in a panic himself since he was locked out of his house and needed to call his wife. Even with the trauma I had just been through I was taking care of people. I was not well developed enough to scream at him "Allen, look at my face. Shut up." Today I would say, "Allen, sorry I cannot help you right now, and go be nice to the women in your life." I am so glad to be married to a sensitive man who would notice the blood on my face.
Right after my bike accident, I got a new pair of roller blades. The old pair had brakes on both feet, but not the new pair. So as I went for my test run down our street, I braked BUT that was the foot with no brake, so I fell really really badly and scraped my leg. That was a bad time for accidents for me.
All of these, show my personality. I would step in pot holes all day long unless I had people to tell me where they are. I have also learned some caution from the accidents. I know not to have the leash connected to the handlebar, and to check which foot has the brake on it. I imagine I will be one of those 90 year old women, who falls and breaks her hip, because of a pot hole I have not experienced or seen yet.
Yes, as Qammi almost ran in front of my bike yesterday, I wondered if it was Fleagle who ran in front of my bike or me being a Klutz?
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