A bike, a trike and a call for help.. really, I wasn’t being a baby… honest….

When last we saw the tricycle it was being cleaned up with a little kerosene on a rag… trying to get the tar off of it.  Also, the owner of this small steed of freedom was also attempting to become de-tarred… as he was simultaneously receiving a lecture for failure to listen to his mother… for the four millionth time.

Once the tricycle and its owner have recovered from the tar… and the lecture / “other” communications his mother felt was necessary, they were once again out on the road.  Yes, out on the newly paved road so now the frontier had expanded.  It was now much easier to get up and down the road without having to fight the stones that could stop a tricycle dead in its tracks.

At the same time the happy wanderer was once again on the road… so was his sister… and her best friend… on their two wheeled stallions.. which were much much faster and sleeker… and the envy of a tri-cyclist… but it didn’t stop him from trying to go and do the things that they did.

So one day, they were at the top of the hill just up from the house.  Well, it really wasn’t a hill but just a slight rise but when you are 4 or 5 everything seems like a hill if it isn’t flat.  the sister and her friend had turned around and were coming back down the rise so little brother (that would be me, if you hadn’t figured it out yet) turned around and started pedaling hard.  Since I was so far behind them going up the incline, I was now out in front and wanted to beat the two of them back to the house.  No matter how hard I pedaled though, they were closing on me faster and faster.

My sister yelled for me to get out of her way but I couldn’t do it.  I’m not exactly sure what happened next…. all I know is I ended up on the street on my stomach… the trike on top of me…. the bike on top of it… and my sister on top of it all.

I would love to tell you that I was super tough… and macho… but… I wasn’t.  I screamed like my arm had been torn from my body.  My sister would have to fill in a lot of the details from here but I do know that she was unconscious…. and that my parents and a neighbor had to rush her to the hospital where  she spent the next several days or a week recovering from the accident.  I… on the other hand…. was perfectly fine.  Not a scratch on me or my trike.   Guess we were both pretty tough… good thing I was calling for someone to come help my sister huh?


1 Comment

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One response to “A bike, a trike and a call for help.. really, I wasn’t being a baby… honest….

  1. Annette Cowell

    Yeah, you were tough. I, however, still carry the scars. I had a pretty bad scrape under one eye, still have a scar on the end of my nose, wasn’t allowed to walk in the hospital for several days because my knees were so scraped up (still got a scar on one knee too from that), and, oh yes, I broke a collar bone. I think that’s actually the only bone I’ve ever broken. Probably the worst part was that I’d been bicycling with a toothpick in my mouth. Fortunately, it didn’t go down my throat, but it did get stuck sideways inside my lower lip. Needless to say, I did not go riding with a toothpick in my mouth again. Best of all, we’re both here to laugh about it now.

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