Discussion
Something similar has probably been done before, but I thought it'd be entertaining to hear of biking disasters, road or mtb.
My most memorable mtb fail was definitely rolling into a very steep, fast downhill section. For some reason at the bottom of the descent my testaclons and associated anatomy were far too far low and rearwards of my saddle. My rear suspension compressed and resulted in my shorts being dragged through the chain stays with much pain and screaming. I was convinced my penoose had at worst been torn off and at best lengthened (dramatically) having felt as though it had rotated along with my rear wheel a good 5m. Result was (un)fortunately neither and only severe grazing, pain and embarrassment.
Road incident- new to it, so far falling off my bike while practising clipping in and out my pedals while stationary. In the kitchen.
My most memorable mtb fail was definitely rolling into a very steep, fast downhill section. For some reason at the bottom of the descent my testaclons and associated anatomy were far too far low and rearwards of my saddle. My rear suspension compressed and resulted in my shorts being dragged through the chain stays with much pain and screaming. I was convinced my penoose had at worst been torn off and at best lengthened (dramatically) having felt as though it had rotated along with my rear wheel a good 5m. Result was (un)fortunately neither and only severe grazing, pain and embarrassment.
Road incident- new to it, so far falling off my bike while practising clipping in and out my pedals while stationary. In the kitchen.
Used toeclips/straps for some 30 years, and eventually (a couple of years ago) when my old leather cycling shoes fell apart I decided it was time to change to SPD's. First outing almost every minute was a 'new pedals' thought and there were no incidents. The next time however my thoughts were more on going along at a good pace, and the 'learnt reaction' or whatever it's called took over when I came to a halt, and the action of pulling my foot backwards as I'd done for the last 30 years had no effect and I tumbled sideways on 3 occasions - the most spectacular being next to an embankment beside a river....... Upside down and clinging on (just) and recovered by some nearby walkers before I ended up in the drink! 
After a night out in a German town, I was coerced (to my eternal shame) into 'borrowing' a "student" bike from outside the bierkeller (I was a young recruit, desperately trying to fit in to a new unit).
Following the other two (I'd have got lost without them) I turned off a residential street, onto what appeared to be a farm track. Only when I turned the bars, the front wheel didn't turn with them
I crashed (relatively slowly) into a parked Mercedes Benz. As I tried to twist the bars to match the wheel, the interior light came on, and the green and white paintwork was revealed. Along with the word 'Polizei' across the doors
My companions had already fled back to the barracks, and I rode away to follow them, but by the time I got to the road I needed to cross to get to the gate, there was already a VW Transporter patrolling up and down the road. I spent half the bloody night hiding from the German 'Rozzers' in a ditch alongside the gravel track.
I sobered up quite quickly, managed to get back into camp without being shot on sight, and from that moment on, I vowed to a) never steal anything ever again (especially not a bicycle) and b) to be rather more selective about who I chose to drink with in future.
Following the other two (I'd have got lost without them) I turned off a residential street, onto what appeared to be a farm track. Only when I turned the bars, the front wheel didn't turn with them
I crashed (relatively slowly) into a parked Mercedes Benz. As I tried to twist the bars to match the wheel, the interior light came on, and the green and white paintwork was revealed. Along with the word 'Polizei' across the doors
My companions had already fled back to the barracks, and I rode away to follow them, but by the time I got to the road I needed to cross to get to the gate, there was already a VW Transporter patrolling up and down the road. I spent half the bloody night hiding from the German 'Rozzers' in a ditch alongside the gravel track.
I sobered up quite quickly, managed to get back into camp without being shot on sight, and from that moment on, I vowed to a) never steal anything ever again (especially not a bicycle) and b) to be rather more selective about who I chose to drink with in future.
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