Doc Austin
10-30-2004, 08:12 PM
Last time I rode in the rain..............well, here's the story........
It's contest time.
Racing, war, politics. None of that matters. The only thing that really counts is who has had the stupidest bicycle wreck. Only the first 100 entries count. Let the mods be the judges.
My entry.......
It had rained for days. I was itching for a ride when it looked like we had a narrow little window and the roads were dry, so we set off. We went straight north, got about 15 miles out and stopped to fix a flat. When I looked back south, the sky was black as night, and it was clear a major monsoon was coming.
Well, it is never good to get caught in one of those for a plethora of reasons. 1. The bike gets trashed. 2. It is cold. 3.The brakes are virtually useless unless you apply them early so the friction drys them some.
So, we turn around and we are flying. We wanted to beat the rain in the worst way so we were hammering for all we were worth.
We came upon the intersection of Bellair road and Viewtop circle, which was "T" shaped. I suppose we were travelling about 20 mph when the skies just opened unexpectedly and it was like driving into a wall of water. With the stop sign approaching, and everything instantly soaked, the brakes were useless. I pumped them a few times dry them, but it was no good. I was going to fly through the stop sign and right out into traffic running both directions at 60mph.
There was nothing to do but bury the break levers and hope for the best.
Unfortunately, the back dried first, locked up, and the bike spun around and slammed me into the pavement. I slid through the intersection, miraculously not getting squashed, on my butt, through a small grass patch, and directly into a water filled drainage ditch.
Ke-Splash.
It had rained for so many days that all the grass in the ditch was washed away, and I was desperately trying to claw my way out of the mud lined ditch, but failing miserably and sliding back in. My riding buddy, looked over his sholder, and seeing my plight, began to laugh hysterically.
Until he ran into a mailbox, that is.
After I pulled myself and my bike out, it was just a matter of getting home. My buddy had terribly bent his front wheel and bloodied his nose, so now, I was laughing at him. It was one of those brutal moments of mutual misery that makes cycling so much fun.
Now, I was almost glad it was raining because I was covered in mud, and at least the spray was washing some of that off. I began to notice that passing cars would take an extra long look at me. Then, some people would point at me and openly laugh. and finally, a carload of teens drove by and said some things I can't repeat.
As the rain washed off more and more mud, I began to realize my buttocks were getting cold. That's right. My tight spandex shorts had been ripped when I was sliding on them, and they had blown completely open. My entire skinned keyster was hanging out in the open.
We were still 10 miles from home.
Oh, the humanity!
It's contest time.
Racing, war, politics. None of that matters. The only thing that really counts is who has had the stupidest bicycle wreck. Only the first 100 entries count. Let the mods be the judges.
My entry.......
It had rained for days. I was itching for a ride when it looked like we had a narrow little window and the roads were dry, so we set off. We went straight north, got about 15 miles out and stopped to fix a flat. When I looked back south, the sky was black as night, and it was clear a major monsoon was coming.
Well, it is never good to get caught in one of those for a plethora of reasons. 1. The bike gets trashed. 2. It is cold. 3.The brakes are virtually useless unless you apply them early so the friction drys them some.
So, we turn around and we are flying. We wanted to beat the rain in the worst way so we were hammering for all we were worth.
We came upon the intersection of Bellair road and Viewtop circle, which was "T" shaped. I suppose we were travelling about 20 mph when the skies just opened unexpectedly and it was like driving into a wall of water. With the stop sign approaching, and everything instantly soaked, the brakes were useless. I pumped them a few times dry them, but it was no good. I was going to fly through the stop sign and right out into traffic running both directions at 60mph.
There was nothing to do but bury the break levers and hope for the best.
Unfortunately, the back dried first, locked up, and the bike spun around and slammed me into the pavement. I slid through the intersection, miraculously not getting squashed, on my butt, through a small grass patch, and directly into a water filled drainage ditch.
Ke-Splash.
It had rained for so many days that all the grass in the ditch was washed away, and I was desperately trying to claw my way out of the mud lined ditch, but failing miserably and sliding back in. My riding buddy, looked over his sholder, and seeing my plight, began to laugh hysterically.
Until he ran into a mailbox, that is.
After I pulled myself and my bike out, it was just a matter of getting home. My buddy had terribly bent his front wheel and bloodied his nose, so now, I was laughing at him. It was one of those brutal moments of mutual misery that makes cycling so much fun.
Now, I was almost glad it was raining because I was covered in mud, and at least the spray was washing some of that off. I began to notice that passing cars would take an extra long look at me. Then, some people would point at me and openly laugh. and finally, a carload of teens drove by and said some things I can't repeat.
As the rain washed off more and more mud, I began to realize my buttocks were getting cold. That's right. My tight spandex shorts had been ripped when I was sliding on them, and they had blown completely open. My entire skinned keyster was hanging out in the open.
We were still 10 miles from home.
Oh, the humanity!