As a kid I tore up more bikes playing Evel Knievel than you can imagine, that's how my dad got so good at repairing bicycles. After I worked my way through all the kids bikes I ended up on my moms old step through. Rode that beast around the neighborhood for a while sworn not to jump it by my mother. Did good until I saw some friends had set up a ramp. I backed up to the end of the block and put everything I had into getting up speed and felt the jump was a go. The only thing was I hadn't taken into consideration the weight of my steed, I had the speed when I hit the ramp but what I didn't have was the upper body strength to hold the bike up. Bike goes down with me hanging on to the bars, my stomach came down on the back of the seat where the cover had come undone and there was a rusty edge of the seat metal. Scratched the entire width of my stomach from belt line to the bottom of my ribcage. Walked the bike home even though it was less damaged than I was, told mom I fell off the bike. She cleaned me up and to this day I'm sure she knew what I did. Anyway that was my first tetanus shot and last bike jump.