Since we were one of the last generations to not grow up with tablets, cell phones and Internet to keep us self occupied and absorbed, we always played outside and sometimes would get hurt badly. I can recall three of these times involving a bicycle.
My first one was when I was 10 yrs old on the way to school down the street (straight shot) riding my trusty BMX bike and being mesmerized at the time at how my legs were powering the bike. Right about that time, I remember standing there, looking at my wheel and it was spinning, and some guy ran up to me to see if I was okay. I told him I was and went to the school and to the school office as the guy was very concerned. I ended up with quite a gnarly goose egg from slamming my bicycle into the back of a parked car!
My second one was on the same bike and I built a fun ramp to jump my bike off of on the sidewalk and was having a great time doing so until I somehow landed the wrong way and tore my right muscle in my neck. A trip to the ER later, I was home and back to doing things maybe a week later.
My third and final time, I was 14 and on this really awesome for the time, 10-speed with a black frame with red trim including the cables and seat. It was glorious! I was enjoying my time riding it at the top speed I could and didn't negotiate a turn correctly and ran into a curb and flipped off the bike and landed hands down to the ground. I bent my right arm some and had a 'splinter fracture'. That trip to the ER resulted in a splint which led to the orthopedic doctor who gave me a wrist brace they use for surgeries and I guess Carpal Tunnel. I had to wear that for 8 weeks and it was a long hot summer!
First I remember I was maybe eight. We lived in a 2nd floor apartment with a back porch and we had a dog. The back yard was all just dirt parking and some trees. We had a dog lead at the top of the stairs that was long enough for the dog to roam the whole backyard. Well, I was putting him on the lead one day and he must have seen something he wanted to chase. He pulled me down the entire flight of stairs on my ass. I couldn't see it but I'm told the bruise was impressive.
The next one, I flew off of my bike and slid across our all gravel driveway. My hands were all tore up and full of little rocks.
The last was when I was a teenager. My school sent our class to a nice day camp with a pool and other recreation facilities. I'm very pale and I didn't plan on being out in the sun so much. I got severe first degree burns on the front of my arms and legs. I missed school for the rest of the week. Everything that touched my skin was uncomfortable. The doctor wouldn't give me a note to wear shorts the rest of the year. Kind of pissed me off that my parents didn't advocate more for me. The discoloration didn't fade completely for about 10 years.