Rollo the clown bike: Most memorable is the time it slid out from under me on a muddy sidewalk on Hiawatha and 38th. Think of a watermelon seed squirting out of your fingers.
Los/Las Cruces: I took it to Wisconsin and dumped it on a gravel shoulder when I moved over on Highway G to give a car some room. A beefy cross wind pushed me over some more and I ate shit on some loose gravel. It's ok, I made it to Eagle River and rode it another 50 miles on a broken spoke.
Black Crosscheck: I hit the fence on Minnehaha Pkwy and Bloomington on my way home from some guy's going away party. I knew those last five drinks were no gouda. This was the Wednesday before Memorial Day about 2 weeks before I decided to go to treatment. I have my treatment graduation medallion on my key chain. My buddy said he did that the first time but now his medallions would be like a roll of quarters.
I've never ditched the Parade Bike, 1 x 1 or plastic bike or Kogswell but 4 out of 8 is better than what they used to pay Allen Iverson for.
