Sunday, June 22, 2014

Keepin' It Rubber Side Down... Sometimes.

It's one of my favorite phrases.

Rubber side down.

It's something that my cycling mentor, Joe, used to say all the time.  He'd tell me, "Keep it rubber side down, J-dub!"  And I would.  Usually.

But sometimes things just do not seem to go well.

Take for example my bike crash last summer. (see Car vs. Bike, here)

For the most part, the bike naturally wants to stay upright and usually you can spin your way out of a tight spot.  Arend Schwab has a great Ted Talks video about why, here.

Typically, when I do fall down, it's because I'm doing something stupid while standing completely still.

Yesterday was an exception, and I fell down while going sort of fast.  I say "sort of" because there are lots of people out there that go much faster than my skinny legs can manage.

Let me clear some things up before I explain what happened.

I was not checking the map on my smart mouth phone because I thought I was lost.

I was not trying to put the aforementioned phone back into a pocket on my jersey that was too tight and my hands were sweaty and swollen and fat-fingered.

I did not take my eyes off the road while fumbling with my smart mouth phone and pocket and then slowly drift to the very edge of the road where a giant chunk of pavement was missing and only realize it at the last second before my front wheel struck the edge of the pavement sending the front half of my bike suddenly flying through the air to the left while the back half tried to keep going straight and I couldn't correct anything because I only had one hand on the bars.

That's not what happened at all.


There was an armadillo in the road.  Not just any armadillo, an angry-mutant-fighting-ninja armadillo.  And there was a jackelope.  A really pissed-off jackelope that thought the ninja-armadillo was invading his turf.  And they decided to have it out right there in the middle of the road while I was riding through.

Unfortunately, there was no time to react, so I gave my best Leroy Jenkins battle cry and plowed through the melee.

That's what really happened.  Fisherman's honor!

Glamour shot time!

I just wrecked my bike, but first, let me take a selfie!

Smiling or crying?  I'm not sure.

You should see the road rash on my hip.  Or not.

For the real sickos out there, like myself, here's the link to the Strava data from my ride.  You can see the "break" I take at mile 26.