Several times a week a few of us take a morning bike ride 12 miles out into the countryside. Being exceptionally clever, I decided to take a shortcut through the weeds to avoid a busy intersection. This morning, while bombing through the brush, I plowed into an irrigation ditch and flew over handlebars and landed ass-over-teakettle. Of course, chemists will recognize this as an example of a cyclic endo dig. Naturally, when something like this happens, the first thing you do is look around to see if anyone witnessed the crash.
Lamentations on Chemistry
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Lamentations on Chemistry 
Being an amateur bicycle racer in an earlier life segment (before I had a job, mortgage, wife and son), I’ve done all you described and more. It happens when you ride at high speed with 120 other cyclists on 20 mm wide pieces of rubber, wheel-overlaping-wheel, shoulder-to-shoulder wearing nothing but lycra.
For a racer, the ONLY reaction is “Get me back in the race!”
I definitely do not have what it takes to be a racer. I’m just lucky I don’t fall off more often. And, pudgy, middle-aged guys like me shouldn’t wear Lycra.
I would have paid to see that!
Hey wiseguy! I thought you were going to get hold of me so we could have a get together while you were in Colorado? What’s up with that??
We simply ran out of time. It’s funny how you go on vacation without any plans and all of a sudden there is a list of things to do when you get there. Next time I’m not going to tell anyone we are coming until the last minute. That way we might be able to see people we would like to see. Sorry about that…
I am having trouble visualizing this. Pictures ! I need pictures and diagrams, lots of diagrams!
So this Scotsman is running through forest undergrowth dead of moonless night with four bottles of uisge beatha snugged to his chest when he trips, tumbles, and is knocked unconscious. He awakens to realize a trickle of warm fluid is leaking from his crotch. “Oh God, please let it be blood.”