I’m not so enamoured with the new trams in Edinburgh after taking a nose dive into the tarmac when my bicycle wheel got stuck in the tracks.

6 thoughts on “”

  1. A face-plant, and the results, are always funny. To everyone else!

    Many years ago, while considerably less than sober, I somehow decided I could go faster than my friend. By not holding the handle-bars, and even by putting my hands behind my back for a second like some kind of downhill skier. Hit an invisible pebble, front wheel turned 90-degrees, my vehicle halted instantaneously.

    The crash was spectacular! Nose-first into the concrete curb, while still moving forward, my limbs intertwined with the bike frame like a contortionist act. My friend said he looked over his shoulder and I was absent, then in the distance he noticed the moaning heap. My especially thinned blood was streaming down my face, filled both eyes… “How bad is it?”, I asked. “Hmmm… yeah… emergency room,” my friend said.

    The nurse said that the hole on the bridge of my nose couldn’t be stitched up because there was nothing left to pull together, and that plastic surgery might come later. After many years the pink scar faded away completely, but still burns first in the sun.

    I got a “wet train rails are slick as snot” bike tale too, though that only resulted in a level-III shoulder separation, that wasn’t properly treated. That joint now works OK, most of the time. Cross wet rails at a perfect perpendicular, is the lesson/reminder.

    Broken toes from a sudden car-door-open, and then there was… (the uninsured, hit-and-run driver who ran a red light…)

    1. Damn, I got off lightly. Hit the deck, got up, thankfully no traffic behind me. Picked the bike up, inspected damage, mostly my clothing that took the hit, and then rode off. Two nice young girls stopped to check I was ok, humanity has it’s moments. 🙂

  2. Yup, “assess the damage” is always my first thought too, and my ride is usually my first concern. Along with nursing my pride, when there are witnesses.

    When I got to my feet after the hit-and-run driver creamed me, I was not only in shock (didn’t realize it) but absolutely furious because I could see that she’d just totaled my nice road/touring cycle; twisted it like a pretzel. Only ambulance ride I’ve ever taken. I like to say, “I nearly lost my ass, literally!’

    I was the last to see it coming due to hedges that obscured my view of approaching side traffic. The light turned green for me, I shot out into the intersection.

    I broke her front windshield, both passenger-side windows, the back window, and broke off the passenger-side rear-view mirror. It was no doubt a hell-of-a-show for the lines of cars waiting on the light! The surgeons were right; I had tiny slivers/specks of glass coming out of my skin for years after.

  3. Ouch!
    What are you plans/locations for the coming months? Return to central america?
    Have a good day Callum.
    Martin

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