My seeming invincibility as a cyclist rose up and smacked me in the face yesterday while on my usual daily ride. I had been living a delusion. It had been years since I had experienced what might be considered a serious cycling incident – discounting not being able to clip out soon enough or the chain going too far toward the frame on a shift onto the small chainring while climbing, resulting in toppling off the bike. Although an unpleasant sensation to not have control of your bicycle, at least it’s not at speed, so hitting the surface usually does not cause too much damage, if you can at least control your fall.

Then came yesterday.

I was on the homeward leg of my 41-mile route with 10 miles remaining. For several weeks, I had changed the route slightly by staying on MD 178 through Crownsville, rather than taking River Road to Old Herald Harbor (OHH) to Sunrise Beach Road or its reverse. I was taking a break from the inevitable climb to come up from the harbor area; in addition, OHH was being resurfaced. But, thinking that perhaps the work had been completed, I decided to ride this route last week, only to find out the stretch from River Road to Sunrise Beach was only one-third finished, which made for a rough, slow grind up and out – granted, it wasn’t the cobblestones of Paris-Roubaix, but still…so it was back to riding through Crownsville.

I had been doing this stretch long enough to know where the potential problem spots were located, including the rather ubiquitous potholes. The traffic can be disconcerting since there is a 4-point traffic light stop and a popular restaurant just at the intersection of that traffic pattern. And being Friday around noon, traffic can be expected to be heavy, but the overwhelming majority of motorists are respectful of cyclists.

The wildcard yesterday was that the trash had been collected within the past day or so and some residents along the road had not yet removed their trashcans from along the shoulder. This necessitated maneuvering from the shoulder onto the roadway to avoid the obstacles presented by two such trash bins, which I was in the process of doing, keeping my right hand on the handlebar while signaling with my left. Although I have a radar app synced to my Wahoo, which I much prefer to any sort of mirror, I still turned my head just to make sure a car was not encroaching into my space.

That’s when it happened. The next thing I knew, I was hurtling facedown into the front lawn of the house, the trash bins of which were standing just a little further up the road. As I remember, I hit the ground with the left side of my helmet as well as my torso, then catapulted over onto my back. I realized immediately that my back and my left pectoral area were both extremely painful upon attempting to sit up. It also was very difficult to breathe. Bottom line – I couldn’t believe this had happened and there was no way I was going to be able to get in those last 10 miles.

A motorist immediately pulled over to ask how I was and encouraged me to stay lying down. A motorist driving in the opposite direction called over to ask if I was okay. An off-duty policeman appeared out of nowhere. He helped get me disentangled from my bike, which he then checked out as if he knew his way around bicycles. He indeed is an avid cyclist and he helped me get my bearings. In our ensuing conversation, he said he had seen the whole thing, gathering that I had been concerned with the trashcans that I was approaching at speed.

As soon as he mentioned what he had observed, it came back to me that intending to obviate the trash bins had precipitated the ensuing scenario. Once that was established, I began looking to see how I had lost control of the bike. I found the culprit several feet back in the direction I was riding – a nasty, perhaps 2-inch deep, 4-inch wide, and 12-inch-long pothole right on the white line delineating the roadway from the shoulder. As for the excruciating pain I was experiencing on my left side, it would appear that I had landed on a partially-exposed corrugated tin culvert in a trough in the lawn.

Of course, several EMT vehicles arrived – apparently whoever had called 911 when seeing a cyclist lying alongside the road had been unable to verify whether a car had been involved. But they did a thorough check-up and I was grateful they were on the scene.

So of course, the question is always asked – WHY!?

Whenever I go out for a ride, I ask GOD for safety and an opportunity to be a witness as I ‘fly the flag’ so to speak, wearing my ‘Christian Endurance Cyclists’ jersey.

As for safety, I was thrown to the right, away from the road with its vehicular traffic, and onto a grassy lawn! Then there was the moral support of passers-by, the several minutes that the off-duty policeman spent with me, getting me re-oriented and even offering to take me home although he had lunch plans. The EMTs provided excellent medical attention. And then, of course, my wife, who ‘just happened to be’ at the intersection of MD 450 and Crownsville Road, approximately three miles away. She was indeed a rock in a somewhat shaky situation.

To be a witness? No words were spoken regarding my faith, but hopefully, the jersey was seen and read by each person with whom I came into contact. And the Word went out, though unspoken, through both my wife’s and my demeanor during the emergency.

Now, it’s time to recuperate, rejuvenate, and then get back to praising GOD through cycling!