Two summers ago while riding the Ozark twisties on a beautiful morning, I breezed into a beautiful right hand turn almost at the limit. So close to the limit that once I spotted (lets name him Homer) in the middle of my lane trying to get home for dinner that evening, I wasn't able to change my line through the corner much due to speed... but just enough that I almost missed Homer. But not quite. I ran right over the edge of his shell which ejected Homer just like a hockey puck! I was amazed at how well Homer flew off to the left just like a well thrown touch down pass! (you know the kind) Perfectly flat, spinning through the air, Homer flew across the road, and down the hollow where in the clearing sat a small computer repair shop with plate glass windows. Yep you guessed it. I've always hoped Homer lived and was there to great the owners when they came to work.