on near misses

and cranking out luck

I’m feeling cranky, dear reader.

No, someone hasn’t brought up some new stupid woke outrage about some marginal microaggression.

There isn’t some new trend to do the work that I need to actively ignore.

I’m cranky because of my bike restoration project.

And the fact that I’m cranky is a good thing.

You see, the cranks on the bike that I just bought - my winter project bike - they are subject to a safety recall.

And Shimano, to their credit, are honoring this recall thirty years later!

So, because I’ve managed to extract the cranks, I will receive a new set of cranks, bottom bracket and chain, absolutely free! These components would cost more to purchase individually than the entire bike!

Why are they being recalled, you might be asking?

There’s a flaw in the steel.

I’ll admit, dear reader, I can’t see it. I’ve looked.

And?

I know its there.

I had the same bike when I lived in Toronto. Same cranks, with the same recall.

In a moment of questionable judgement (one of many through my life) I chose to try to get through an intersection ahead of a streetcar.

I had a red light on Queen Street.

There was a car northbound on Spadina.

I pedaled with all of my might.

At the age of 27, my might was mighty.

Because?

At the age of 27, I almost joined the club with Janice, Kurt and all the rest of the dead rockstars.

My cranks broke.

The crack sounded like a gunshot.

My right foot fell.

I didn’t know what was happening. I had no power, I had no ground and I was headed for the pavement with a massive red TTC rocket bearing down on me.

I went skidding along the ground in front of the streetcar, my arse bouncing over one track then the next.

I saw the streetcar, could hear its metal wheels grinding on the metal tracks.

The sky was grey.

Everything slowed down.

My head didn’t hit a thing.

Though I was bleeding through my pants, I did not panic.

I was close to not making it, and yet, I survived.

Much of our lives, dear reader, are a series of close calls.

It’s a miracle that we’re still alive.

Sometimes, things we can’t see fail, break and put us at risk.

But maybe, just maybe, there are things we can’t see that keep us here as well.

Until then?

Keep on cranking.