When I was in 10th grade, I wrecked my motorcycle. I road with my friend Randy up to a motocross track just up the hill from our friend Jared’s house in the small town of East Earl, PA. I came ripping around the corner of the dirt track into the straightaway and double jump. I got air but shorted it. My back tire hit the second jump, and I went vertical above the handlebars. When I crashed, I hit my head and swooned. After my swoon faded, I stood against the tree and shook my head. My swoon...