Incidentally- we have markers on our rides for the spectacular incidents. We have Barry's bush at the end of a long downhill. 20ft wide, made of hawthorn and very thick. Barry went straight through it without getting a mark on him. Mind you the bush did not look that damaged either. We reckon he went over the top, but we saw him hit the bush and then got worried trying to find out where he was, till we heard him groaning.

Then theres Mikes Marker. Dead straight bit of cycle track, good surface, but marked by the 8 ft tall steel pipes. No reason but he just ran straight into it at about 10 mph. That hurt as the bike stopped, he didn't and he damaged his manhood.

Then theres Doug's ****. Thats me by the way. Offroad muddy trail churned up by tractors with deep ruts in it. I was the last one in line and as all the rest fell off the trail or bike, I noted it and missed where they had failed. 10 yards from the end and the last rider in front of me just fell off sideways, I managed to miss him and all I had left was the final tyre rut that was filled with water. Put the power in, stayed in the rut and bike stopped. Over the top into 2 ft of water. In the rut, someone had put a massive great big log so the front wheel stopped and the rest of the bike didn't. Straight over the handlebars landed on my back in 2 ft of water, and never knew what happened. Got out so quick, that only my shorts were wet, but apparantly, I did completely disappear under water, And the splash was quite large.

Own up time- What are your incidents that are still remarked on by your riding buddies?

We all have stories of crashes, close calls, ironic surprizes, etc. One of ours is just an on-going quest story. Out on a lovely country road one Saturday morning a few years ago, 3 of us saw a young woman in an emerald green jersey turn out of a wooded side road about 100 yards in front of us. She had long brown legs and a lovely, smooth spin. Leering like teenagers, we 3 olde phartes picked up the pace. Seems she did, too. We got to some rollers and got into a speed up, slow down game...we'd close to within almost loud talking distance, she'd pick up the pace. This went on for 4 or 5 miles, then, getting bored I guess, she shifted up, stood up, and powered away like the breeze. Emerald green jersey, dark blue bike, gold rims...and she was wearing sandals!

The eery thing is, we've seen her a number of time since then-- always ahead of us, or passing while we sat on the steps of the old general store in Knights Ferry--a local cyclist destination, etc. Other riders have seen her....just nobody has ever spoken to or ridden with her.

And it was a form fitting green jersey, too. But, mostly, it was the sandals. I mean, she beat us wearing sandals!! Probably clipless sandals.

Not an incident that happened on a club ride, but a very memorable incident happened to me when I was 5. One of the boys from across the street was trying to teach me how to ride on his bike that was way too big for me. I started off down the sidewalk veering this way and that, left the sidewalk, started riding on the lawn, and finally nailed a tree dead center no bigger around than the balloon tire on the bike was wide. I flew over the handlebars did a "Mike's Marker" (see original post) on the tree. OUCH!

Can't remember if I've told this story here or not. When I was about 12 or 13, my buddy and I decided we'd start a bicycle "circus" to pass the time one summer. I decided my act would consist of standing up on the saddle of my 3-speed English racer with my arms extended (think of Leonardo DeCaprio on the Titanic).

I got ready for my first practice run. My street was paved in asphalt and gravel, and the edges had lots of loose gravel. There were no sidewalks.

I rode up to the corner and turned around and gunned it, getting up as much speed as I could. I got my feet on the saddle somehow and commenced standing. Did I mention I was only wearing a pair of shorts and some tennis shoes?

Of course I lost my balance and proceeded to do a belly slam onto the loose gravel and asphalt, and then I slid as though I was stealing home. They say my screams could be heard in the next county. (My parents, who were in the backyard at the time, initially misinterpreted my screams to be sounds of joy!).

They picked out cinders from under my skin, from head to toe, for hours.

The circus, needless to say, never sold a single ticket.

Well there's no marker, but on a fast downhill during a tour in Vermont I somehow got side-wise and did two complete rolls. . .still side-wise. . .me AND the bike. Saw the Miracle of the Sunrise twice between my still strapped in feet. Being a mere wisp of a lad of 35 years at the time I threw it off but the back wheel formed a shallow figure-eight viewed from behind. No idea how it all happened. BTW, helmets have saved me injury or worse on that and several other occasions.

Thus GrannyGear spake. . .

>>> young woman in an emerald green jersey . . .long brown legs and a lovely, smooth spin.

Yeah, I've seen her, too. She looks like Helen Mirren when I see her. It's [She's?] a mirage.

I ride single and, as far as bicycling, I must live a very boring life. :p

One more cycling moment from childhood. Fourth of July evening, l959 or so, balloon-tired Schwinn as shown below but I was a little older. Amped up on too many fireworks, I jumped on my bike (curb weight about 60lbs) and tried to come as close as I could to my young neighbor ChiChi B. Came closer than I intended and knocked her from the gutter onto the sidewalk. I went over the bars (preview of later in life) and caught my barefoot toe in the spokes. ChiChi was screaming, her parents swearing, my toe was bleeding...real fireworks! ChiChi recovered fully. Later as a teen she claimed to have out of body experiences but gave me no credit for them. A few years later I had big toe surgery to correct damage. I was banned from biking for a week. Seemed unfair at the time.