I remember one day in July of 1968. This was the ONLY time I ever forgot to put the lock ring on behind a new track cog. I did not notice until I was rapidly approaching the busy intersection, and suddenly I was in free-fall, with no brake, the cog spinning free around the hub. In my sudden panic I didn't even think of grabbing the front wheel soon enough. Tossing myself and the bike down for "body braking" against the pavement I was instantly embarrassed. Even while sliding, I imagined an entire bus full of passengers watching me in slow motion horror as I skidded ever closer. In reality, I wonder if anyone had even noticed my crash. My successful but goofy and graceless maneuver was preferable to either hitting or being crushed under the city bus heading into my path on an inevitable collision intersect. But, for years I expected to hear a stranger say "Hey, I remember you... you're that kid who..."
Only two blocks from home, with shaky hands I re-screwed the cog, remounted immediately and left the scene of my great humiliation, returning home with rubbery legs and pounding heart. I carefully examined the bike which was just fine except for stretch of torn handlebar tape. My pain went unnoticed until I began to remove the shredded remains of my jersey and then sat down on the back lawn and vomited. I immediately threw away the jersey, hoping to erase the memory or the event. The road-rash healed, the embarrassment lingered... confessed only now. Another lesson learned.
Bob Hanson, Albuquerque, NM, USA
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