. . .It was a splendid 54º (Fahrenheit; 12º Celsius) mid-October, Sunday morning, leisurely bike ride in east Charlotte. After making a right turn onto Wilora Lake Road (from southbound North Sharon Amity Road) on my single-speed, steel-frame Thruster, I heard a woman screaming. What now? Is this a setup for a robbery? Better stay wary. “Can you please help me, sir?” the slight, elderly, gray-skinned woman in an ornate, full-length, red dress with a burnt orange shawl and a white, head-wrapped, linen scarf shouted. She was standing beside a 15-year-old maroon sedan that was parked on the curb, 100 feet (30.5 meters) away. Oh my, what has happened to her? Is she injured? Is this some kind of health emergency? Or, is there a burly guy lying in wait, ready to jump out of the back seat with a machete?. . . Read More