Slalom Through the Legs

Narrow dark corridor spotted between four wooden dining chair legs! No slowing down. Throttle forward—maximum rpm! I aimed straight between the front two posts. Tight clearance. Whirrr! My rear fender scraped wood with a sharp scrape sound! Pushed right through the gap. Slid across the slick varnish. Spun out right beside a heavy table foot, tires squealing to a halt against a dropped paper napkin. Clearance confirmed!