The other night I was riding my Fixed-conversion in my neighbourhood going to see if my cousin was at home around 11:30 pm. I've got two blinkies in addition to my main headlight in front and two blinkies in the back. I'm fairly well lit. Also, I've got a reflective orange riding jacket and a camel back with a fat reflective stripe down the middle.

I come hot steppin' around a corner on a deserted(or so I thought)street. I round a parked car and, ten feet in front of me, are two dudes riding abreast on black mtn bikes, wearing black clothes, no reflectors, no helmets, no lights, no reflective clothing. No nothing.

"Oh ****e!" I yell out loud. "Woah, Woah, Woah!" yells the one dude. My body reacts without thinking, I grab a fistful of front brake and nose wheelie right in between the two them. My left foot slips out of the pedal clip and strap. Because the bike is a fixed gear, the pedal come around and gouges my left calf into a really neat-o reverse number four that I'm kinda hoping scars that way because it looks almost like it was done on purpose.

I somehow manage to drop the rear end smoothly and skid to a stop. These two fools commence to yelling at me when I tell them to get some lights. I shook my head, went down to my cousin's place, alas, he was asleep. I pedalled home, took a (painful) shower and went to bed.

The next day, in the pouring rain, I learned to skid stop. That was just before the jerk in the Ford Explorer decided to give me a screaming lecture on
how to ride a bike in the road. That, however, is a story for another thread.