It was bound to happen eventually... I've had a few falls here and there... mostly in the beginning... mostly clumsy. After awhile you get comfortable & cocky... that's usually when you get nailed... right?
When I commute to work, I prefer taking Sherbrooke street instead of the boring old bike path. Early in the morning there is hardly anybody on it... and I just fly right work. I also fly threw red lights & stop signs. (who the hell wants to stop every second block?) In the evening there is significantly more traffic... & those same pesky red lights & stop signs. Well... I do look both ways before crossing an intersection. ( when it's red... yellow & green mean go!) The last km on Sherbrooke on the way back home is slightly downhill. (that means go fast) The light at the intersection was red... but out of the corner of my eye I could see that it was turning yellow for the intersecting traffic. So... no reason to stop... right? However the other corner of my eye neglected to see the intersecting vehicle... a full size white Suburban (the kind the F.B.I use to drive over terrorist & stuff) This vehicle didn't care what it intersected on it's way to making this yellow light. (it's important to note at this time that it is me writing this story and not a grieving widow) I did not in any way shape or form hit the Suburban. The pavement however... took quite a beating. (disk brakes work way to well...) It appears I applied just a little more pressure to the front than the back. (I've actually performed this little stunt in front of my father when I was 12) The result... a forward somersault. (in both cases) I wish I had someone video tape it for me... would have loved to have seen it in slow motion... so I could have pointed out the exact moment I said F***!!! Somehow... I ended up on all fours... don't ask me how. I quickly got up... (probably not) with the wind knocked out of me. For a split second, my reaction was to go yell at the driver of the "Monster Truck", but starting breathing again seemed more of a priority. I realized I was at much at fault as he or she was. (never made actual eye contact) The driver was probably relieved I was alright... but was most probably afraid of my reaction. I finally I began to walk in that direction... ("lock the doors!!! he' coming this way!!!) only to pick up my Scrambler of the street. I was more worried of it... than me. The light for driver turn green and he or she rolled away... neither one of us exchanging a word or a glance. Weird I know... but what are you say?
The Scrambler sustained a bent rear derailleur & some scratches to the right shifter. ( nothing major)
I sustained what I believed originally to be a scrapped knee, a sore right hand, a bruised ego and a slight pain to the ribs. Later that evening... the slight pain... became... well... not so slight. I took the day off today. Nothing broken I'm sure... some swelling... but the beer seems to be helping the healing process. Overall I think I walked away from this one... pretty good.
(always important to note the walking away part)
11/06/2007
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I've gone over the handlebars four times in the last five years... twice on one ride (hit the same hole in the trail going and coming back). Only landed on concrete once, the last time, and sustained injuries that sounded exactly like yours. Felt okay for awhile, started to ache that night. Took a week or so to completely heal.
The ribs are still sore... especially at night when I sleep. I haven't ridden since... hope to be back on the road by Monday. The Supercycle project has been delayed at least for another week. Besides still no snow here... and the weather is still descent.
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