"Never ride faster than your guardian angel can fly."Anon.
My dad used to own one of these ~ an old Indian. I believe he came to grief on it a time or two. Given the trouble he had with cars I'm surprised he lived to tell the tale but he did. He grew up ~ well, he got older~ & exchanged his bike for a family car & the wife & kids to go with it. The bike got stored in his sister's shed.
Now Dad's sister, my Auntie Shirley, was an unusual woman. She loved her brother with a passion but she had some odd quirks & that bike had been sitting in her shed 20 odd years. Possibly longer. By anyone's standards it had reached antique status. In Shirl's eyes it was just another piece of junk, junk that didn't even work any more.
Shirley also lived in white ant country; termites; in a house over a hundred years old. These little blighters will eat their way through just about anything & eventually they ate their way through Shirl's front verandah steps. Being a do it herself sort of a woman Shirl set about rectifying this problem & bought herself a bag of cement & some sand. You know where this is going don't you?
Yep. Finding herself sort of *fill* for her new set of steps Shirl began clearing out her shed. Somewhere in the shire there is a hundred year old house with a fine set of curved cement steps with an old Indian bike firmly embedded therein!