What was your dumbest crash, ever? Regardless of bike, location, race/commute/circus-bear-trike whatever...
The scene: Friday night, Logan Square. I'd gotten my race bike back earlier that evening from Mission Bay after some much needed maintanence. I'd put on my new cleats and was headed out for a quick recovery ride, and to check and see if they'd been able to take care of all the noises that were coming out of my headset, plus anything else I was completely paranoid about.
It's about 10pm. I head north on Kedzie for several blocks, jumping several times and torquing the shit out of the handlebars and don't hear any noise. I turn around and then head west on Wrightwood, past the apartment in the other direction. Kick a few times, nice easy spin, getting loose for Saturday's long ride. I turn around at Pulaski.
Heading back, almost at Sawyer, I sight my line up to the sidewalk and metal gate out front. Planning on a little self-showy flair on a quick dismount. I make my cocky approach like Sorriano on a shallow fly ball...
...and miss the ramp, and hit the curb straight on.
I crash right on the sidewalk in front of my fucking apartment on an AR ride.
Rash on top my of SLO crash scars, swollen elbow and hip, and a flat front tire.
And to pile it on...as I'm lying there, swearing on the pavement (at least I wasn't in kit) a creaking, squeaking commuter comes slowly rolling by, straight out of a John Hughes movie. Doesn't even give me a second look.
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