Cycling to work
I hung my rucksack on the handlebars, as I didn't want a sweaty back. Had been fine there for weeks, but as I learned, extra weight on the front of the bike shifts the centre of gravity forward a bit.

So, one morning, pulling over out of the way of a bus (a big double-decker one), in Balham, I clipped the kerb with a pedal, and all of a sudden I was up in the air. I went over the handlebars, clipped my cheek on something, bruised several bits of me, and stopped myself with my hand on the tarmac. I now know why the motorcycle game for the megadrive was called Road Rash - I had a little bit of it on my palm. Blood dripping from my hand, and a little bleeding scrape on my face, I approached the bus, which had stopped in all the action. The doors opened. I asked the driver "Are you alright?".

That seemed to phase him, so he didn't tear a strip off me for shaking up all his passengers, he just nodded and drove off. I cycled on to work, washed my hand from the drinking bottle on the way, and showed my manager, as an explanation of why I was late.
(sabre-tooth monkey, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 22:20, Reply)