What's the scariest thing happen to you on a bike (not involving a driver)?

Eight years ago, waking up in Kings College Hospital, Stoke ward, with no recollection of how I got there (Air Ambulance) or why (Cycle ride, RTC). Owing to the brain injury I have no recollection to this day, just cycle computer data that shows 30mph, followed by 0mph a second later. So clear evidence of a hard stop, yet not a mark on the bike. Spesh helmet, Snell Foundation, fully destroyed.

No motorist involved, other than the lady who saw a body in a ditch and kindly called 999. Fortunately the Ambulance service call quickly established the need for both ground and air ambulance. Even luckier, the one helicopter that serves Kent and Sussex (bigger than most people think) wasn't busy attending a motorway crash.

The four London Trauma specialist centres include Kings College Hospital, Denmark Hill which didn't have a H pad on site, so used to land in the nearest park and transfer by ground ambulance. So time lost getting to the Operating Theatre, during the first 'golden hour' after a major trauma. Happily KCH does now have a rooftop H pad for straight to Theatre travel, thanks to the kind donations of many wonderful people. Bizarrely the Air Ambulance, needed by the most urgent cases, remains a Charity, not public funded like ground ambulance, less urgent.

Many months later, once I was able, I worked with the Police, Scene of Crime Officer, to investigate the cause (Continuous Improvement) however we could not determine one based on evidence or even the balance of probability.

Ride safe, and far..

After riding up Rohtang pass in Northern India there was a massive traffic queue with trucks stuk in knee-deep mud (a bulldozer was actually pushing them through).  No problem as there was a 50 cm wide shoulder.  On the left hand a wall of trucks, on the right hand an abyss.  Young and foolish, I risked it on my MTB.  Everything went well, until I literally felt the ground shift under my rear wheel.  Down I went but I was very, very lucky that at that spot it wasn't a sheer drop but rather a very steep incline formed by earth/small rocks that had come down and I got stuck 8 meter down, the bike a bit lower.  Truckers used ropes to haul me up.  Nothing except some scrapes and bruises but on that occasion I think I used up 4 of my 9 lives.

I was a teenager out on my bright red Falcon 10 speed and I was charging down a narrow, steep and twisty stretch of road on the north side of Edinburgh. As I rounded a corner there in front of me was a JCB coming up the hill towards me and taking up most of the road. I hauled on the brakes and somehow managed to slither past it in the narrow gap between a stone wall and the JCB bucket, all the while with the back wheel locked up.

Only afterwards did I have an 'oh shit' moment. Of course, nobody wore helmets in those days.

It was my fault completely for riding like a nut on a narrow road with such poor sightlines. I learned a lesson without getting injured.

i was working my way back to full fitness after several months off following a pretty drastic interaction with a car and was out for a week's training in the Pyrenees foothills.  Coming up to a village we indulge in our usual game of "sprint to the sign post" and i get the jump.  Realising i had won that particular battle I turn aound to look over my shoulder to check/gloat about my prowess but in doing so I apply a little side steer to the bike, which i become aware of as the ride become decidedly lumpy as i mount the grass verge.  Realising my error i return to face frontwards and at that moment the pole of the town sign flashes past the end of my nose.  A few more wobbles and I regain the road and total control.  The thought of that very close shave folowing my long rehab left me quaking until the next cafe stop.

Topical in view of current weather, thought there was a wet patch on a corner which turned out to be black ice and falling with all my weight onto my hip.

Very painful and couldn't put any weight on my right leg, convinced I had broken my hip.

The paramedic (this was 5 years ago when ambulances attended accidents) manipulated my leg causing me to shout with pain whereupon the paramedic cheerfully advised that if the hip was broken the pain would have been much more severe.

He was right, X-rays showed ligament damage, 4 weeks on crutches and 6 weeks until I was cycling again.

Disclaimer: this does involve a driver... but for good.

Tanking it down Rte Des Gets from Morzine one summer and as anybody who has done that hill will know, it's a nice smooth descent and you can get up some real speed... right until the hairpin at the bottom. I'd given it full beans and dropped the group from the top and was approaching the hairpin at 50mph or so.. Right on the edge of my control skills for a road bike. My eyes were streaming with the wind and everything was a bit blurry.

A car was approaching from below the bend so I couldnt go wide and carry much of the pace I was coming in at... I yank hard on the brakes and the front tyre goes BANG! Blows out and I have no steering and no front braking... then I went hard on the rear - I'd been using that on the way down to save my front for emergencies so it now seemed to give up however hard I pulled.

Over the other side of the hairpin are 3 options to aim for (or avoid!): a rock wall, a narrowish steep gravel path or a short sharp metal fence and be flipped into the trees below - I'm thinking "this is it; Im going home in a body bag."

The gods were with me though; an ancient land rover decided to cut me up just before the bend so as I hit the exact point of stinky pants... I bounced off the side of him into the grass verge on the inside of the hairpin. Some scuffs and a broken seat and me sat there rattling off expletives and laughing my head off with the adrenalin.

10 minutes later everybody else turned up saying "oh thats where you went"... they had stopped near the top to wait for me forgetting that i was in front of them. Then took the P for the rest of the day as I had no seat and kept forgetting and sitting down on the post

I was cycling up a steep mountain in the foothills of the Himalayas 20 years ago. I reached the top and waited for my friend. I suddenly felt a warm fuzzy buzzy sensation on my hands and handlebars... and looked down to see a big swarm of bees arriving. I panicked and started the descent so quickly that I nearly came off my bike a couple of times. Bees clung to me and my bars. Eeeek! I came to a rushing stream over the road and dipped the bike and me into it. Bees gave up! I didn't get stung once, but did get badly scraped knees and very waterlogged bags.

I was descending Sun Rising hill in the edge of the Cotswolds, on my rim brake 2005 Specialized Allez. I qualify the type of brakes involved because they were OK, but certainly a slight handful (literally) in the wet or if I had to stop quickly and urgently. I think I *might* have had old housing on too...ANYYway.

If you know Sun Rising hill at all, you'll know it has a very steep crest (say around 20-22%) that leads down to a sharp hairpin. It's a bit of a bastard because you pick up steady speed on a flat section just before descending it, and then immediately bomb down this descent loving life and then encounter an impossibly sharp hairpin.

This would all have been fine if I'd bothered to check the route beforehand. I had not. So - I bomb down the first downhill, keep my fingers fully off the brakes, spot hairpin at around 35mph, grab handful of brake, skid for what felt like at least several metres, miraculously stay upright, tiptoe down the hairpin and immediately pull over, shaking. To this day, I still don't know why I didn't end up flying over the crest of the bend downhill.

The only other time I was this scared was descending another hill (there's a pattern forming here...) on my old Cannondale CAADX that had some species of cable disc brake. Somehow, this brake's pad adjustment bolt had worked itself loose, so when I pulled the lever, it bottomed out....and I didn't slow down. Cue Fred Flinstone-style dragging my feet as I barely negotiated the bend at the bottom of the descent, again, at around 15-20mph. 

Lesson learned? Blame your brakes for your rubbish descending skills and buy a bike with hydraulic disc brakes instead 🙃

TL:DR - At speed, very, very narrowly missing an old dear who calmly sauntered out into the road on a fast downhill.

The full version: this was in Jan or Feb 2020 - I remember it was just before lockdown. Where I used to live - a fairly small village sandwiched between 2 decent sized towns - was essentially at the top of a fairly big hill. There were/are 3 roads in/out: from the north, the hill was steep and could be a sketchy descent in bad weather; it was a poor road surface and had a sharp bend about halfway down, as well as featuring a few houses with hidden driveways. The route from the west was a bit steadier and very straight but linked the 2 towns and was hence quite a busy road. From the south, it was a long, fairly gentle meander down to a B road at the bottom, and that was my usual route out and home.

Anyway, I'm about 2/3 down the south hill at the start of my ride, gently ticking the pedals over but not gunning it, so I'd guess c.25mph or a hair quicker. There's a pavement on the near side. I see an elderly lady on the pavement in plenty of time, and she is looking up and down the road as if to cross (though there's nothing obvious on the other side of the road to cross to). She looks right at me, and waits. Oh good, she's seen me.

Nope.

A clear 4-5 seconds later, when I am c.20 yards away, she steps confidently out. Despite my yell, she takes another step out. In a split second, I decide I can't go outside her, as there's a car approaching, so try to cut between her and the pavement. I felt my jersey brush her coat, and my front wheel went within an inch of the kerb, but I miraculously she and I both stay upright, and I bring the bike to a stop 100 yards down the road. 

The car driver has stopped, as if to confirm the miracle he's just witnessed.

I look back up the road.

The old lady has just about finished crossing the road, apparently heading for a hedgerow, and is looking dead ahead, as if nothing at all unusual has taken place...

To this day I wonder if she ever saw me at all.

A rear wheel slip and then a front wheel skid out on patches of gravel, both on hairpins whilst going down the Galibier.. that sort of killed my mood and put a stop to any previous enthusiasm I had for a speedy decent. 

I'm not sure it's as scary as the flash of a badger run across your path and miss your front wheel by inches whilst bollocking along at full pelt in the pitch dark.. that sort of stopped me going full pelt in the dark and made me buy a massive lumens front light.

Tour of Cambridgeshire a few years ago, my second or third time of doing it, always a bit 'crashy' for sure as it's full of choppers, but I won't forget the fellow next to me/on my wheel who simply disapeared from my peripheral view with the most horrendous carbon mashing sound as two thirds of a huge group about three miles from the start just dissapeared, a look behind and the road was blocked by a massive pile up, that was pretty scary knowing if I'd have been one bike back it could have been a different story. 

All heart in mouth moments for sure. 

My first ride back from a pretty bad broken elbow which had seen me in hospital and off the bike for months, we headed to climb Edgehill, it's a bit of a killer with it's inconsistent gradient which hits 12% a couple of times up the twisting sub-1km climb.

Anyway.. it was descending Edgehill that day which I'll never forget. It sweeps left which you can get round without scrubbing speed, then a hard right where most would brake in advance of the final fast left, then it's flat out 'don't have gears made for this' speed.. However, in my case that day, at the 'scrub some speed' corner, my front brake didn't bite at all and as the bike was newly repaired/replaced, the rear rim brake couldn't have been set up quite right, so at ??odd mph going down a 12% hill the rear brake wasn't doing much at all to slow me down.. anyway I got round that first corner okay but was still gaining speed and had the final corner to negotiate... I remember the terror of realisation turning into the terror of the upcoming corner and the dwindling choices available to me.. so I screamed my way around the left hand corner while drifting wide into the oncoming traffic lane and even skimmed/rode onto/up the roadside grass banked verge..

Thank goodness for no traffic in the opposite direction, thank goodness I didn't drift further up the banked verge. My mate of course was completely oblivious to my screams, as with all the confidence in the world he'd shot off in front at the top. I on the other hand have had this seared into my brain ever since and to this day (years later) do not naturally decend very well. 

P.S I just checked and the 'fastest I've ever gone down a 1.08km Edgehill segment according to Strava was 50seconds averaging at 77.8km/h with a max speed of 86.8km/h ..I'm not saying I went down there at that speed on the unforgettable day above, but you can see why it put the willies up me!

Today - not following my own processes, crossed the tram tracks at the West End at a rather shallow angle and speed because a coach was breathing down my neck.  Felt the slip... and suddenly recalled this was where someone died in very similar circumstances  ... but recovered.  Probably saved by being loaded (low) with Chrimbo shopping.

If I'd have been thinking I'd have pulled off the road to left and done a 2-stage turn.  Especially because of the proximity of the coach and we're now in winter slippery black sludge weather.

So it turns out that practice only makes habit if you regularly reinforce it.  I don't make this turn often enough now to remember!

Another one, just today, cruising along on club ride, post-cafe, and then multiplied today's cafe spend by 52 to come up with just the £360 I'm spending annually on coffee, cake, bacon rolls etc.

Nottingham City centre, 20 odd years ago, a relatively young, fit, idealistic self riding hard as a bike messenger. Had just bought a Bob Yak bike trailer allowing me to move heavier/bulkier loads. One particular day it was pouring down and I descended from the top of the city centre, loaded up to the gunwales with legal documents, took a right hander at speed resulting in the overladen trailer to spin round and literally drag me backwards down the road until I theatrically fell off 🤣.

As a teenager, I'd saved for a Raleigh 10-speed, and unable to wait, took it out in pouring rain. Came flying down a dual carriageway, thrilled to have it in top gear, and braked for the 3-lane roundabout. Absolutely nothing happened. Miraculously sailed through 2 lanes of cars, forgot to steer and landed in a heap on the grass in the middle.

Chromed rims, Weinmann centre-pulls and cheap brake blocks ... nasty.

When my mum was poorly, I stayed at her house for a few weeks to look after her, and dragged my old 1970s Raleigh Record out of the shed... I spent a few evenings cleaning it up, laced on some new alloy rims (to replace the old chrome jobs) and then headed out to the hills. Cresting a hill, I let the bike rip and got up to 41mph downhill before realising that the old Weinmann brake blocks on shiny new anodised rims had hardly any stopping power, and the road was horribly mossy and slippery with a gravelly middle strip on some of the corners. Worse, I'd forgotten the bike had a ton of trail and wanted to head in a straight line at speed, nothing like the quick flickable steering you get on a modern bike. It was a close run thing and only by using the whole road - luckily, there was nobody coming up - could I bring the old anchors to bear on the new rims and get the bike down to a reasonable speed and get down safely. Then I had to climb up again... with 'manly' 52/42 cranks and a 14-28 block, and a heavy steel gaspipe frame, that was an absolute chore too. I went out and bought a set of Ultegra brake shoes and pads, which made a huge difference, and the rest of the time took it much more gently.

Scariest thing?  In hindsight probably that time us kids got that invite to go on a bike ride...

On a mates' weekend over near the Long Mynd and we did a ride on a pretty wet and miserable day. Going up out of Church Stretton we arrived at a cattle grid on a slope and I watched a couple of mates nearly do themselves a serious injury sliding on the grid so I hopped off and opened the gate alongside. The rest passed through without incident. I went to hop back on on the 5%+ slope and failed miserably. I looked down and realised I was in too high a gear, dropped it into lowest, hopped on the saddle and slammed my foot on the pedal which caused the bike to flip over my head, depositing me on my back. Covering my embarrassment, I tried again with more care and carried on. 

We then came to a descent, and this is where my pure hatred of rim brakes came from. I'd caught up and thought I was keeping my speed down on a gravelly single track road. I realised that I was gaining speed and braked harder, causing my old Ribble Sportive* to shudder and buck, so I released the brakes - and in the couple of seconds, I gained about 10mph. I repeated this process a couple of times till I'd hit over 30mph and knew I was in trouble. As I turned the next bend, I realised that in about 200 metres there was a stone wall at a T-junction - this had the likelihood of being fatal due to the impact with the wall or a passing car. I spied a grassy bank and in that instant of clarity realised that slamming the brakes on and throwin g myself onto the bank was a better shot than the stone wall. So I did so fling myself, and rolled to a halt with a wrenched shoulder and some bruised ribs and a proper winding, and lots of winpering.

My mates turned up and decided I would live and we road on, somewhat in pain.

For my troubles I was awarded the Hazeley Knob Award for the rider who fell off both uphill and downhill on the same hill.

I have a Garmin trace of the ride including HRM, and until I turned the corner, I was at a steady 110, as I saw the brick wall it hit 175 (my max at the time) and stayed there till I stopped. Speed started at about 15mph and ended up over 30mph before my stop.

* I believe the cause was a poor join on the rim of my Shimano Ultegra wheels that I was aware of but thought nothing of, meaning to get round to sanding it sometime.