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The Hunt continued

The bike's handle bar slipped out of my hand and suddenly rotated, throwing my limp body in one direction and the bike in another. I felt the gravel dig into my knuckles, as I tried to break my fall. I heard the bike crash.

After quickly checking the superficial cuts on my hands, I looked through my tears in each direction to see if anyone had seen what had happened. No one.

I crawled to my bike, picked it up and once more used it for balance as I walked it over to the shade tree on our front lawn. I placed it against the trunk of the tree and sat down in the grass to nurse my wounds, feeling lucky to, once again, avoid serious injury in my own private struggle with the physical dangers of my life.

It was then that I saw the new dent in the front wheel fender of my bike. But, I only gave it a passing thought. Both fenders on my bike were pocked from many falls, and yet it still worked, giving me the thrill of coasting down the hills of our farm – free and easy.

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