I’m cruising along. Listening to Tupac. Going through the busiest intersection in town, when I fly over my handlebars, and crash onto the pavement and my bike. I walked it off. And carried my bike to the sidewalk, hobbling.
The cargo net attached to my rear bike rack got unhooked, and wrapped up tightly in the gears. I stopped instantly. I was bleeding instantly too, and I’ve never gotten bruises so quickly. I have road rash on my left knee, and gashes, and scrapes here and there. It could have been worse.
Now I’m recovering. My wounds are clean, but still exposed. I’ve got my leg elevated, but the pain is setting in. I didn’t see it coming. Of course I wasn’t wearing protective gear. It was the nicest day on the Oregon Coast in months, so I didn’t wear my biking gloves, or pants. Shorts though, I wasn’t naked. The only thing I was prepared for was the fall. I’ve studied martial arts, so I know how to break fall, and minimize impact. Still, I’m going to be recovering for weeks. I didn’t have first aid on me either. But I usually do in my backpack. I was traveling light. Don’t worry about me. I’m going to make it. I’m a survivor. I hope chicks really do dig scars.