Sunday, August 17, 2008
The stars are just plain aligned against me, I'll tell you what.
Now I've crashed my bike. Set out to do 10 miles, slipped on a railroad track. I barely had time to yelp before I heard this tremendous THWACK as my helmet hit the pavement and something skittering across the road (turned out to be my helmet mirror, yes, I wear a hokey helmet mirror.) I picked myself out from under my bike and off the road and ascertained that other than road rash on my shoulder and a little ache on the side of my head, and some aching/stinging on my thigh, I was OK. But my gear hanger was bent in between my spokes making the bike unrideable.
My husband came and got me, I washed the chain grease off my thighs and changed my clothes. The stinging ache under the leg of my bike shorts turned out to be a 5-inch diameter patch of road rash.
My ailing tendons escaped. No further damage there.
I took my bike in to the shop. The mechanic thinks he can straighten the hanger; if not, it'll only cost about $25 -- my Shimano Ultegra derailleur isn't damaged.
I'll need a new helmet; it has 4 dents in it. I'm glad I was wearing a helmet. I'm glad a car wasn't coming. I'm glad a train wasn't coming.
I've ridden across those and dozens of other tracks hundreds of times and never slipped. I still don't know what happened.
Oh, well. I'm OK, the bike can be fixed, and a helmet is easily replaced. But I hurt. My whole arm aches and my road rash burns. Could've been worse.