When I was around 8, the kids in my neighborhood went on a bicycle adventure down the nearby country road. There was a huge hill, which was a struggle to get up, but was full of promise coasting down at breakneck speed. Well, as fast as a single speed banana bike will get you.
Me, being the consumate bicyclist, failed to negotiate the curve at the bottom of the hill. I low-sided and slid right into an electrified cow fence. I got a few good jolts but got myself extricated pretty quick. My brother and buddy hit the bottom and help to a nearby Amish farm house. The farmers wife took me in, put some antispectic on my scrapes and wrapped a few bandages around the worst spots.
My mom gave me helll when we got home, but eventually we laughed enough to take a picture. It's in a family album somewhere at their home.
