A few times actually.
As a matter of fact, I have been a member since the early 70’s,
The first couple of time was on a bicycle just like that up there.
I’ve been over the bars a few times on motorcycles too, on the pavement.
I really hate road rash and I have had it in some strange places.
Funny how that works when you are tumbling along like a rag doll at forty five miles an hour after landing on your head.
I had to give the fuckers up after I had my lower back fused after getting picked off on one back in 85.
My biggest problem is that I only know two throttle positions, off and all the way on. I was a crazy sonofabitch back in those days and pretty much had a Death Wish.
I didn’t care one way or the other and not only am I lucky that I’m still alive, I’m lucky I still have all my parts and can walk around.
I’ll never forget this one time I wrecked my little Honda 450, actually one of many times but those are different stories for another time.
I broke my left wrist and separated my right shoulder after going over the bars in a corner. I reflexively stuck my hands out to break my fall going 45 miles an hour.
Some nice people helped me get the bike back up and held the clutch for me until I told them to let go and I rode the fucker the rest of the way home with one hand and speed shifting the thing.
My room mate took me to the hospital after I dumped the thing off in the front yard.
I remember laying in the bed facing the nurses desk when this older guy and a woman came in. The woman kept staring at me and I finally said “What the fuck are you looking at?”
It was my Mom and Dad.
I didn’t recognize either one of them.
Got my bell rung pretty good that time.
Six weeks later I had moved to San Jose in the mean time and was 50 miles away from the doctor I had been seeing.
You got any idea how hard it is to wipe your ass with a cast on one arm and the other one in a sling for six weeks?
I rode that fucking bike all the way from San Jose to El Grenada which is just a mile or so above Half Moon Bay, with a cast on my arm so the doc could look at it. The bike was the only transportation I had at the time and he was supposed to take the fucking cast off.
He decided it needed to stay on a bit longer but I was all done with the thing.
I left his office and went straight to a hardware store and bought a pair of Channel Locks and tore that cast off chunk by chunk and piece by piece.
About a year and a half later I endowed a mini bike at full speed in the street and went over the bars again, put my hands out again and broke that same wrist in the same place.