When I was 4 I was rideing on some distant venture from home. My pant leg got stuck in my chain so I had to park it on the side of the road. Terror struck when I spotted one of those monsterous street sweepers coming up slowly behind me about four blocks away. Naturally, I began to cry hysterically, knowing full well that the street sweeping beast was going to eat me alive.
Some strange lady came out of her house and pulled my leg free and I was off again.
I guess it wasn't very exciting. Mostly just scary. Exciting was the day I ditched that lame training wheel on the one side of my bike. I remember trying to turn so sharply that my pedal would scrape the pavement. That was pretty cool.
I miss that little yellow bike.