Saturday, boarding my kayak after lunch on an island in Dillon Reservoir, I fell and banged my right knee.
This morning, I stopped to fiddle with my front brake. I unlatched from my right clip easily enough but could not disengage from the left pedal. So over I fell, skinning my left knee, and the front cluster dug into my right calf as I fell so I look like I was clawed by a werewolf (a short one).
Both my knees have scabs on them! I'm fixed! Aiming (or lack of aiming?) in life always to have two scraped knees is probably neither dignified or ambitious or world-changing. But it's doable, and it's me.