Last Tuesday afternoon.. a hot and dusty Devon day, the kids off round to a mate's with their mum for their tea
To cut a long story short, I had cut down off the common to head towards the outward leg of a homeward bound clifftop run.. I was belting down a pebbly and rutted farm track past the reservoir towards the farm at the bottom and a short road section.. I slowed down to pass a fella walking his dog, and then accelerated again for the last 25 yards of track, bunnyhopping a kerb at the end and into the dusty and potholed hardpack earth driveway of the farm heading onto the road..
I think I must have sat up to stretch my back, maybe released my grip on the bars, but the next thing I knew my arse had slipped off the seat and my hands off the bars, leaving me barrelling along completely out of control with my feet stuck to the pedals, my arse resting near the top tube and a horrendous tankslapper imminent.
I regained the bars just in time for the front wheel do dig in and catapult me over the top..
The dog walker behind me (himself a cyclist) said it was a spectacular crash, he wandered if perhaps I had been shot..
He saw me inexplicably wobble out of control and then a huge dustcloud formed with me being spat out of the front of it at velocity into a crumpled heap on the floor, where I lay for several seconds before moving..
no damage really.. sore undercarriage, a couple of scrapes and now my shoulder is sore a few days later
not the first time I've been hammering over roots and rocks and chutes and drops all afternoon, only to be undone on a simple farm track on the way home