I was riding west on Route 27 towards Kingston, and suddenly heard the rear tire blow out. As it happens, I'm right across the street from a service station that was so kind to fill up a slow leak for me in the past.
After changing the tube, I got the wheel back on the bike and saw a rip in the sidewall; the tube was bulging out just enough that I knew it wouldn't last all that long. I called my wife and asked her to pick me up and started riding home.
About 4 miles later, a car made a left out of oncoming traffic in front of me. Traffic was pretty packed and moving slowly, and I didn't have nearly enough time to stop.
I ended up half-sprawled on the hood of the car, my feet just barely off the ground. I was able to stand and pull my bike out the van's wheel well; I wave them of to the parking lot.
What followed was pretty standard for these things; after everybody calmed down, the couple was obviously concerned about me. Aside from a few contusions on my face, I felt fine for the most part. Adrenaline and all, I assume.
Martha drove up a few minutes later, expecting to see a bike with a tire about to blow out. My front fork was twisted beyond repair as well as the front rim.
At the Robert Wood Johnson ER, they gave me meds for my achy shoulder and upper arm, telling me I didn't look like I had a concussion. The nurse on duty was funny!
My LBS agreed with my assumption that the frame is toast.
What worries me about this - aside from the obvious of my bodily integrity and the mangled bike - is the Pittsburgh to DC tour in three weeks. Will I be in shape to ride? Will I have a bike at that point? Um.
Neil has offered his Navigator for the trip, which may be an option, but it is a heavy bike. (Of course, so was my mountain bike.)