Bikes Are Also Not Good Sometimes.
People often exaggerate the term “I almost died back there” when describing a crash. No. You didn’t. You almost got more hurt than you are used to, you almost had to take an unplanned trip to the hospital, or maybe you even shit your chamois. But you probably didn’t almost die back there.
So when I say, I almost died back there, I half mean it. A day after posting some flowery prose about how swell bikes are, I almost met my end by dismounting one most unexpectedly. See the streets in my city are filthy, despite weekly street sweeping efforts, which don’t seem to do anything other than move the dirty stuff around and provide an excuse for parking tickets to be written to generate revenue for the broke county. I don’t think people just walk around saying, “This ground right here- this looks like a trash can >plop< there goes my trash.” But it could be? People do suck sometimes. Maybe it’s more like this:
Anyway, a 3.5″ long bolt probably 6mm in diameter got kicked up by my front wheel, pinged off my downtube, shot forward and jammed between my fork and front tire while riding my road bike home. The sudden (immediate) deceleration of my front wheel shot me OTB and tumbling to the ground. Now thankfully I have plenty of practice at getting my front wheel violently torn out from under me so I was able to fall in a fairly straight line, which meant that the cars next to me in traffic didn’t run over my feeble skull or soft, fleshy thorax. Neat.
Disaster avoided. I almost died back there. But not really. The difference between a few scuffs and some faint bruises… and death is sometimes just a few inches.
So be careful out there. Wear your helmets. Tell your parents you love them. And try to enjoy the ride because who knows, it might be your last.