Page 84 - REALLY What A time Book IX

REALLY SO WHAT
What A Time

BUSTED BIKE

I hurt, as I gathered myself and began limping, dragging and
rolling, the bike back home, over a mile. I knew that this
would be the end of my bike riding days for a while. I was in
for some strong punishment.

I was; and did, but I’d guessed wrong about the bike, as it
would be another 6 years before I had my own. By then my
sights had moved on. I wanted a driver’s license, and by 14 I
was driving my uncles tractor in his fields. By High School I’d
be traveling all over the east coast, from Maine to the Florida
Keys.

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