Well, it had to happen. You can’t be my age and expect the reflexes, synapses, and sarcomeres to respond to every situation exactly as you’d like. I fell off my bike while it was moving and made violent contact with terra firma, or more accurately, terra asphalta.
It happened suddenly, as I left the Greenway and turned onto Folly Road. Where I expected, and usually found, empty sidewalk there was suddenly a pedestrian. While thinking about where to go, I forgot to not go towards the telephone pole and the cars immediately beyond. The final frontier, so to speak.
As a budding biker nerd, I had, immediately prior to this ride, tightened my brakes to their most biting efficiency.
Without conscious thought, but with a flash of impending doom, I grabbed hard on both brake levers. Before I could even form the words "Whoa, Nelly", I was on the ground. Once in contact with the carbon based road-rash generator, I did have time to let slip the most base profanity.
They say time slows down in moments of extreme peril. Guess this must not have been one of my times, because it all happened in the flash of a nano-second.
The lesson, as usual, has several parts. Just because the bike stops doesn’t mean the rider does. That concept has been noted and filed. And, the goofy little riding gloves with pads in the palms are the investments that allow me to type this little paean. The helmet didn’t contact anything, but might have proved useful if my forward velocity had been more than 3 MPH.
I can’t wait for this afternoon’s ride.