First, I was crossing one of the iron bridges across the Sangamon one frosty February morning. The car coming the other way didn’t stop until he was on the bridge. My front tire slipped on the frosty steel tire track on the bridge. When I got up I looked at my helmet and found a hexagonal bolt head pattern imprinted where my temple would have been and a slight crack in the foam lining at the back.
I kept using that helmet until, a year later Spring time, when I was riding by Allerton after a thunderstorm which left a small trail of wet silt on the road I didn’t see. Just then, I stood out of the saddle to crank up the speed. … I hit the ground at about 20 MPH. When I examined the helmet, I could see a crack in the foam lining from one end to the other now.
That’s been my helmet experience to date,