Summer 1974. Drunk unlit cyclist hit me headon at night. I was moving rather fast attempting to catch up to Tom Martin, who had pulled ahead. At that time, 19 years old, I really have no idea what kind of speed I might have had on. I was probably really moving. The drunk's front wheel slammed into mine and slid into the axle. Front end of my rather nice British racing frame folded up. Collapsed 1/2 the handlebar. Examination the next day suggested I flew 45 feet. Landed on my head. Lot about 1/2 pint of blood, light fracture in my skull, separated shoulder. Was double strapped and my feet didn't come out, so my bike twisted down onto me as I landed. Really torqued up my legs. Hurt. Still can feel some of the injuries. Worst commute ever!