One of my brothers got a ride on a motorcycle, and refused to say anything other than ‘never again’.

We talked before about the crosswinds on a bike. People don’t even think about it until they get knocked over the first time.

The only local thing that scared me (apart from motor vehicles, of course) was an underpass along the sloped bank of a bayou: a couple hundred feet downhill under a spillway, at a grade you could actually see with your eyes, an approximately 500′ bridge (almost freestanding, utterly unprotected from crosswinds) and another 200′ back up to ground level. It became routine for me, part of my daily commute. Then one day we had our once-in-10-years snow…