I lived on 2nd Avenue as a kid. It started at the top of a hill by Hoover Elementary and the hill leveled out around my house, two blocks down.
I spent a lot of time riding my bike to the top of the hill, just so I could coast down. I loved the feeling of effortlessly flying down that hill.
There was just one problem. About half way down the hill there was a cross street called A Street. Right as you were getting to top speed, you had to put on the brakes, because there was a house situated just so, so you could not see any cars coming from A Street. Moreover, neither street had a stop sign.
It was not a particularly busy neighborhood, so the odds that a car would come at exactly the same moment as you would cross that street was quite small. But still!
Every once in a while, I would get up the nerve to zip through that intersection without braking. My body would be electrified as I would fly full speed through the danger zone!
Eventually, I learned how to ride with no hands. So adding the no hands skill to the coasting through the danger zone added to the adrenaline rush.
I had a really good time flying through the danger zone, ignoring the possible annihilation by a vehicle, with no hands on the handlebars. But after awhile, I craved a new thrill. What could I add to enhance my experience?
I ruminated over this weighty issue. Finally, it dawned on me. How could I increase the risk factor? Coasting through the danger zone, with no hands, and with EYES CLOSED! Talk about unsafe!
It took me awhile to get to this point. I mean, come on, that's a little unwise to say the least. I would coast, close my eyes, but it was like I could only keep them shut for the briefest second.
One day, I had been going up and down that hill, being unable to get the job done. One more time, I thought. I was at the top of the hill, and did my usual routine. Pedal hard for a few yards to get up speed, take the hands off, coast on down. Then I would reach the danger zone, have that rush still, even thought I'd done it many times. This time was different. I squeezed my eyes shut. And kept them shut.
It was like a dream that I was flying and floating. Just the air and my body going through space. It was exhilarating!
The old joke is that if you fall from a great height, it's not the fall that's the problem, it's the abrupt stop. The dream ended as I smashed in to a parked truck. Now I was really flying, but it was over the handlebars of my bike, and on to the unforgiving street.
I laid on the concrete, evaluating my condition. A little bruised but miraculously, no major injuries. I checked my bike. It would need a little work. I checked the truck. It was kind of a beat up old truck so I wondered, did I leave that mark? Did I make that dent?
Most importantly, did anyone SEE me? I wandered the area around. The event happened near my house. I peered in the neighbors yards, in their windows. No other cars driving by. I breathed a sigh of relief, I do not think anyone saw me!
It was a miracle.
