I still get a chuckle with my parents about the many incidents I had as a child. I being one of those children that just seemed accident prone.

On this particular sunny day, it was decided that the time for my training wheels to come off my bike was at hand. (I think it was my older brother who decided this. I don’t remember my parents being outside at the time.)

So one side of my bicycle was cleared of a training wheel and I rode around until I got used to it. Then the other side was removed and I rode some more. In no time at all I was biking around just like the big kids do.

As I got more confident my speed became faster and faster. We had a gravel road for a driveway back then and there was a sharp curve to get back to the barns. I remember hitting this curve and I don’t know if the front tire hit something or if I just lost control but the front wheel turned side ways and the bike stopped suddenly sending me face first into the handlebars resulting in a bloody mouth and lots of skin abrasions.

I had already lost my upper front baby teeth and my new ones were starting to grow in when I kissed the handlebars. And as you probably have guessed, I ended up pushing both of those two front teeth back into my head.

So off to the dentist we went where the doctor assured my parents that I was fine and the teeth would resume their course of filling the big hole in my mouth. And eventual they did, though to this day I wonder if that is the reason I have a severe overbite.

I get a chuckle out of watching My Summer Story (also called It Run’s in the Family) when Ralphy flies down a steep hill on his bicycle making a comment about how he was an adrenalin junkie way back then.

It was fairly quiet living in the country, but my brother and I also had our own form of adrenalin rush. It was called, (dramatic pause), the neighbor’s dog. The meanest, nastiest, two wheel chasing canine you would ever see. That dog could hear you coming a mile away and would lay in hiding so that he could spring into action as soon as you were in his sights. The minute he had a target lock on you, he would be right on your heels with his lips curled, fangs on full display, growling, barking and nipping at your feet every time the pedal came around.

This of course would be the challenge of many a dares, our own little proof of manhood. And it was upon one of these challenges that I was speeding by the venomous house on my three speed bicycle when a gear slipped. The adrenaline had my legs peddling as fast as I could, but the bike just kept moving  slower and slower. I think the only reason the dog wasn’t able to take a chunk of flesh out of my foot was the fact that my feet were just a blur from pedaling so fast. Just when I thought I was dead meat the gear kicked back in and I took off like a rocket.

These days, a dog like that would probably be shot by law enforcement or the owners would be forced to pen him up, but back then it was just a part of life.