I had my first -- and only -- bike accident when I was 18.
I was pedaling along Carbondale's main strip, giddy with the joy you feel when you're a college sophomore and it's a blue October day.
Foolishly, I was riding on the sidewalk and didn't know I was approaching a narrow alley between two buildings. I saw a blur of gray to my right, like an elephant charging out of a jungle. I felt a curious pressure on my leg, then found myself staring dreamily at a tuft of grass growing out of a crack in the sidewalk, inches from my nose.
The lady driving the silver Honda Civic got out to see if I was OK. We were very apologetic to each other.
The alley came …
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