I have an appointment on Tuesday to see the dental hygienist.
The antics on this evening's commute came close to changing that appointment, to see the dentist instead. For reconstructive work.
I was giving it beans along Westferry Road, a road I've stopped using, preferring to use the riverside path. But they're carrying out work on that at the moment, as a result the path is closed.
The car in front was indicating left, and started to turn off, so I upped the beans.
The departing car (I was not far from his rear bumper) revealed a sink hole in the road. Maybe around 1/3 of the depth of a wheel, and not all that long - somewhere between the dimeter of one wheel, and the diameter of two.
The key thing here is that the sink hole had the same profile as the ski-jump in Grenoble where the winter olympics were held in 1968 or thereabouts.
I know this because when I entered the sink hole I felt some unusual g-force on my neck, this gave me enough time to say 'fck, fck, fck, fck' through gritted (and precious) teeth, before leaving the exit ramp with both wheels in the air.
Those of you who know me, will attest that I am really not BMX material, so what followed next surprised even me.
I landed on the front wheel which, because by now, what passes for my brane, had started to process this as an 'inaction could result in Very Bad Things Happening' and I was applying the brakes - so the front wheel locked.
Suddenly, I was seeing too much tarmac. And not enough sky.
And I could feel the bike's mass making it's way up my back, in a way which wasn't good.
My branes were saying 'Let go of the brake! Let go of the brake!'.
This translated into me managing to unclip first one, then the other foot, and land crab-like either side of the bike, after which the rear wheel crashed down to terra firma.
Luckily. Very luckily, there was no motor traffic immediately behind me.
But the cyclist who was ( I spoke with him in the lift at the foot tunnel) thought that something had got caught in my front wheel when he witnessed my spectacular, albeit ungraceful antics.
I've heard that it is bandied about in pilot's circles that any landing you walk away from can be considered to be a successful one.
Tonight's unscheduled flying lesson falls into that category.
And......... relax.
ETA - it should be noted that all of the above happened in a heatbeat. How our brains manage to process so much stuff going on in such a brief period of time, never ceases to amaze me.
ETFA - I'd love to see
http://www.bostondynamics.com take on that sort of scenario.