Bike Accident
How I injured myself riding a bike
Philip Martin
Westwood College
How I injured myself riding a bike
What this memory is about is when I went to visit my grandma and took and old and rusted bike to a friend house; against my better judgment and was injured when the bike finally broke down. Now before I begin this tale remember this happened several years ago and I was maybe 11 years old. I was visiting my grandmother’s house and at the time there wasn’t anyone around to play with. With no one around to play with I decided to go over to the house of a friend that I made in a previous visit. It was ridiculously hot outside that day, so hot that I could crack an egg and put some bacon on the asphalt and it would fry just like it would on a stove.
With it being so hot outside, I decided to forgo walking, and began to look for an alternate way to get there. At first I tried to get a ride from my grandmother but she was too busy; so I thought it over and remembered that there used to be a bike in the backyard. I went to see if it was still there. I found the bike but it was not what I expected.
It was a mountain bike and from what I could tell its original color was blue but over the years from exposure to the elements it had faded. From the look of just the chain and the cycling gear alone its once silver finish now stained red-orange with rust. It did not look like it would be of use. Despite my earlier observations and common sense telling me not to even get on the bike, I decided to use it to get to my friend’s house. To my surprise the pedals actually moved and it didn’t immediately come apart under me. Even though the bike worked and held my weight, it was still hard and felt like was riding through 2 feet of molasses instead of on pavement.
I rode the bike for about ten minutes until I arrived at my friend’s house. I looked around at the front yard of his house to see it had been unmanaged but sometimes yards get like that because of where one lives. I
Philip Martin
Westwood College
How I injured myself riding a bike
What this memory is about is when I went to visit my grandma and took and old and rusted bike to a friend house; against my better judgment and was injured when the bike finally broke down. Now before I begin this tale remember this happened several years ago and I was maybe 11 years old. I was visiting my grandmother’s house and at the time there wasn’t anyone around to play with. With no one around to play with I decided to go over to the house of a friend that I made in a previous visit. It was ridiculously hot outside that day, so hot that I could crack an egg and put some bacon on the asphalt and it would fry just like it would on a stove.
With it being so hot outside, I decided to forgo walking, and began to look for an alternate way to get there. At first I tried to get a ride from my grandmother but she was too busy; so I thought it over and remembered that there used to be a bike in the backyard. I went to see if it was still there. I found the bike but it was not what I expected.
It was a mountain bike and from what I could tell its original color was blue but over the years from exposure to the elements it had faded. From the look of just the chain and the cycling gear alone its once silver finish now stained red-orange with rust. It did not look like it would be of use. Despite my earlier observations and common sense telling me not to even get on the bike, I decided to use it to get to my friend’s house. To my surprise the pedals actually moved and it didn’t immediately come apart under me. Even though the bike worked and held my weight, it was still hard and felt like was riding through 2 feet of molasses instead of on pavement.
I rode the bike for about ten minutes until I arrived at my friend’s house. I looked around at the front yard of his house to see it had been unmanaged but sometimes yards get like that because of where one lives. I