Going into the last turn of the race with 100 yards to go sitting in the top 20 spots, two guys crash to the floor skidding and ripping their jerseys. I slammed my brakes putting me into a 20 foot skid that was halted with the guys ribs as he lay on the ground pretzeled into his broken bike. I somersault of the bars doing a crab position onto the bikes pedal and then rolling onto the asphalt. I stood up with adrenaline sputtering out my ears and looking around I saw a pair of orange lens on the ground. That day I had just bought a pair of orange lenses for my glasses and I freaked out that I had already broke them. I had to touch my eyes to assure myself that mine were still on my head. But I sympathized with the owner of the lenses. I then worried about my wheels thinking they may have bent. I then picked a bike off a guy laying moaning on the ground and then opted to not help move him for fear of a lawsuit. I then gave a high five to the guy that I was with earlier as we went into the turn as he looked like he went through a similar experience as I had.
I expected my first road crash to be a gnarley skid at 30 miles an hour around a turn which sent me skidding for 200 feet as the tight spandex tore off my body and was replaced with road rash, slamming into hay bails and bouncing ten feet into the air doing twists only to land on a big bosomed girl holding two one liter beer mugs.