The Art of Falling on Your Ass

Yesterday I really wanted to feel the road. So I took a little spill at 30MPH. 

It's something all cyclist's kind of want to have happen to them. It's like going out in a downpour, a tight arm tan and an undercarriage that looks like a mine field. It says "I don't just ride a bike, I'm a cyclist." I never go out expecting to crash, or lose skin, or break anything, but I do know that if you are going to ride a bike, eventually you will fall off of it. 

And I can tell you that finishing off the last 40K of a 100K ride bleeding and torn is vastly more satisfying that finishing it in one-piece. You can get road rash from riding 100 miles a year or 10,000 miles a year, the frat will still approve the pledge. I've ridden this year 6,500 miles with no crashes. But I knew it was coming.

You can fall right, or you can fall wrong. You can go high-side, low-side, over-the-bars or, and this is the one you never want anyone to see but one every cyclist has done: the sack-of-spuds.


The sack-of-spuds occurs when you come to a stop and forget that you are clipped in. It usually happens in the first few months of using clip-ins, but can also happen during intense moments of stupidity or in the middle of a great conversation. Once you slow to a stop, you no longer have the leverage to un-clip, so you freeze for a moment and collapse just as the title suggests.

My Dad with his pledge wounds. Accepted. 

Strangely, this can result in some major injuries, as evidenced by my mothers two broken wrists in two separate sack-of-suds events. And yes, she still rides her bike.

My Dad as well, is part of the frat. You're my boy Blue!

So yesterday, I went into a corner I've taken maybe 30 times or more, and my front wheel hit an oil spill and slid out. I laid the bike down and cruised through the opposite lane on my right side, coming to a stop in a very nicely landscaped yard.

Road rash is not exactly a cut or a scrape, it is more likely to be in the burn family.  Legend (myth) has it that sliding across the pavement at 30mph can burn off up to a 1/2 inch of skin in 30 seconds and reach degrees of over 500F. I made that last part up.

Basically, it hurts a great deal. Hurts more the second day. If you leave it open, you wake up with your sheets stuck to every wound. If you cover it up, you risk infection. So, not fun.

That is cadmium red caused
by friction. 

My first road rash was at about 11 years old. I was riding my bike through my neighborhood and decided that I would one-up the other kids by not only riding with no hands, but also with no feet.

I guess I am pretty confident in myself as a bike handler. More astonishing than the accidents I have had are the thousands I haven't had. I have probably about 10 non-accidents a day that could have gone the other way in a horrible and swiftly painful fashion.

In retrospect, the body and mind does some pretty incredible things when it's realizes things are about to go terribly wrong.

As an example: a few years ago riding with a friend and was just beginning a downhill. I looked over my shoulder to see if any cars where coming up on me. This is generally a very intelligent thing to do because I can descend faster than a car and I don't want any delta-bravo trying to pass me when I'm doing 40+.

What my rotated idiot head didn't do was scan the road in front of me first. When my front wheel hit the baseball-sized rock in the road at 25MPH, it jumped, and shot me towards a heavily wooded not-suitable for bikes area.

I know a good wrap-around when I see one. 

There was no time for brakes. There was only time for a bail. I saw a tree and a telephone poll, and between them, enough space for me and my shoulders. I unclipped, ditched the bike, tucked my chin, and did yer-ole tuck and roll right towards that space.

I thought to myself : "This will make my family very sad. My poor friend will have to suffer through this. I hope he keeps riding."  I also thought about a high-school girlfriend that I never thought I liked very much.

But my body and brain did everything else right while I selfishly reminisced.

The best part about falling and not having anything catastrophic happen, is that you get a little attention. And don't even slant your head at me, because we all love a little attention.

After a fall, you naturally are scared as shit of everything. I drove around today with a lot of trepidation, because my body was constantly reminding me of the pain that inattentiveness can rain upon you.

And you can succumb to this and stay inside for the rest of your life or you can do the very thing that has made the cliche into a cliche in the first place:

You can get back on the bike.

P.S. FU to whoever owns the leaky-oil-can they call a car. And also, thank you.

Let's lighten the mood with a hot chick:

Her name is Alexandra Graebe. And I call
dibs if she can actually hold a conversation.