Finest Moments on Two Wheels

We love bikes. But clearly bikes are a precarious position to be in. We take for granted that in fact we are balancing on this thin machine that would, if we slowed down, basically tip over. Sometimes even if we speed up, it tips over. Undoubtedly, whether it be through the learning process, the complacency of experience or just plain not paying attention, we have experienced some less-than-stellar moments on two wheels. I'm hoping each of us on the team can share a moment or two. I'll start.
Cast your mind. It's springtime in 1996, I'm a junior in high school and working at a local sewing shop doing quality control on backpacks and children's clothing. The bike? A Bridgestone MB-4 with Tange Struts forks and bar ends. After school on this day, I swung by Costco to pick up a roll of photos I had developed. After getting the pictures in my bag, I jumped on the bike and was riding through the parking lot en route to work. Gazing down I notice that my quick release lever is not all the way locked. This is where it gets fun. Rather that halt my 10mph speed and put the lever in by hand, I decide it would be better to save time and kick it in with my heel. My aim was off, and I kicked my heel right into my spokes, and right over the handle bars I went. I landed straight armed, then into a crumbled mess in front of people everywhere loading their cars up. After picking up my dignity, I rode all the way to work, then worked a 5 hour shift ignoring the pain in my right elbow, then rode home at which point the pain was unbearable. Turns out I fractured my ulna.

The second not-so-stellar moment that comes to mind took place in the same year, I believe, 1996 and we can file this one under the category of "just not paying attention". In this instance I was riding on the same bike toward my Mom's office at CSU Chico via downtown. Turning left onto 2nd St. I slowed to hop up on the curb in front of the infamous Schlotsky's Deli, where Zach once worked and stole lots of bread. The standard downtown curb measures about 8" and on that day my 8"-0-meter was a bit off, and at a trajectory of about 45 degrees I lifted the front wheel about 6". To this day I believe that somewhere in the arch that the wheel traveled it did hit 8", but at the point when it was to clear the curb it was about 6". Need less to say, once again, a pile of mess and scattered dignity on the ground. This time, though I was in front of a window full of people enjoying their lunch. This time too, when I lifted my hand up I noticed that somewhere in the mix I managed to peel the skin on my ring finger from my fingernail all the way up to my second knuckle. It created this sort of bubble of blood, which I'm sure pleased the onlookers, which I chose to flick all over the sidewalk in front of them. Nice Jess. I rode the rest of the way to my Mom's office with my hand in the air flicking blood all over the Chico city streets.

Anything sent to me will be posted as a seperate post!