There are many versions of this story that I have heard over the years - Linda Ruth tells a funny one about oryoki - but here is mine from today:
It was a beautiful morning, and I was riding to Green Gulch for the Coming of Age program; I would have ordinarily wished to be riding further, but was perfectly happy where I was, absorbing and enjoying the energy around me, getting over the bridge with the early sun, feeling like I could feel the benefits of yesterday's sitting in my state of mind and body; I wasn't rushing, I felt relaxed and ready for whatever was going to happen with the group of boys later on.
On the descent of Highway One above Green Gulch, I could see the sea, it was warm and quiet, and having just ridden the same route on Thursday I was thinking, 'I know this road really well these days', and I was enjoying taking the tight corners at speed. It was right after a thought of 'yep, going very nicely' that I spaced out for a moment, and then realised I was not going to make the next corner. There was a distinct thought 'I'm going to hit the rocks on the side of the road', but I did not hit the rocks. I think I came off the pavement and then jumped back onto it; there was a sharp noise, a distinct thought 'I'm going to go over', and I had a vision of sliding along the road on one side with the bike on top of me, but I did not fall over. My back wheel, the cause of the noise, had buckled and jammed right against the frame, so I very quickly came sliding and wobbling to a halt in the middle of the road; there was no traffic around, thankfully.
When I saw what had happened to the wheel, I shouldered the bike and walked the last few hundred yards to the driveway entrance - I could not have asked for this to happen at a more auspicious place. I didn't feel any real shock after the incident, and was greatly heartened by the fact that a couple of passing motorists stopped to check on my well-being and if I needed any assistance.
Having walked down and got changed, I met Sarah and Michaela, getting ready for the girl's group, who asked, 'did you bike over?.... are you okay? - you don't look okay...'
So I told the story, and actually I felt relieved that many things had turned out just the way they had and not any worse, and I was fully prepared to own the fact that my own smugness had been almost entirely responsible for the whole thing; the only down-sides I could see were that I wouldn't get to ride back to the city afterwards, which I had greatly looking forward to, and that I would have to buy some new wheels, which I had already know I would have to do anyway; I just don't know if I can afford them until we get paid again.