Hornet

Me and my brother were playing a version of tag when we were kids. We called the game "Hornet" and the person that was it would try to sting (tag) the other person, who would try to get away at all costs. I got stung so I was it. My brother hopped on his bike and sped off. I got on mine and chased after him. He rode down the block, I wanted to cut him off, so I went a different direction. I went down a big hill. I had a tiny attention span, so I started to weave the bike left and right. There was a car up ahead. I thought to myself, "I hope my bike doesn't hit that car's tire." (It was turned, sticking out.) I looked to the left and a lady slammed her door. It distracted me. I swerved and hit the tire. I flew like Superman and I hit the ground with my face. I was knocked unconscious. I woke up about half way back to my house. The lady that slammed the door saw me crash and was carrying me home. Luckily, my brother had told her where we lived. I ended up with a concussion and had amnesia for a few hours.

-TJ

Training Wheels

I've had a bunch of bike crashes over the years, but the most traumatizing one was when I was 4. At the time, I hadn't learned to balance yet, so I still had training wheels. I also had that cool police attachment, you know, the one with the siren and the loudspeaker attachment. One day, when I was out cruising, I saw another kid doing some high speed circles with his bike. I thought that was cool, so I built up some speed and took a sharp turn. My training wheels must have jammed into the ground because the next thing I knew, I had wiped out and skinned my left knee. My mom had to carry me home. Later when my dad brought my bike home, I found out that I broke the cool police attachment. I never got one ever again.

-Mike