When the crash happened.

Well, it was bound to happen eventually, took a spill on the bike on my evening ride.

Turns out that the beach trail has a couple treachorous potholes that I hadn't accounted for. Whoops.

But, a skinned knee is pretty small in the grand scheme of things, so other than the "Crap. Now I have to ride home.", I escaped with the only minor embarrassment of nodding at passing drivers that saw that my leg was bleeding.



I am not looking forward to having to separate the tape from my leg hair.