Just visited the basement for the first time since I had my fall down our second floor stairs and ended up in the hospital. I saw my bike where I had left it that day. It looked so young and vital and carried so many memories of the past two years of health and exhilaration that in my present broken state it was a wonderful psychological lift. The thought that at age 75 I had accomplished so much wonderful riding; had expanded my personal universe so widely; had felt such freedom and youth on that bike. It was a very happy moment.