I walked out, stretched in the setting sun, and thought of riding. I had a premonition about riding and decided to run instead. I pulled a few errant sprigs of grass then decided to ride after all. I would be careful. I got out the door about 7:30P.
I was about a quarter mile from the house on fresh, as yet unmarked pavement, with my head down hammering it home. It's a short downhill run into the North edge of the neighborhood. I was thinking about other aspects of life and not the road. When I looked up, I was very near the edge of the pavement and headed towards the freshly worked shoulder with asphalt covered rocks. I didn't have enough reaction time and the last thing I remember is my front tire in the dirt.
The next thing I remember is standing listening to a man, who is a stranger to me. He found me in laying in the road completely out. He didn't say how long I was out in his presence. I looked around and saw a sea of houses. They looked familiar but I didn't know where I was. He wanted to drive me home but I wasn't quite sure where I lived. I told him it wasn't necessary. The more I looked at the houses the more familiar they became and I knew mine was in there - somewhere.
He drove off and I rode home. I have no memory riding home, opening the garage door, putting the bike up, etc. I vaguely remember pealing off my cycling gear and getting in the tub to clean everything out. Oh, the pain of cleaning road rash.
I almost didn't wear a helmet or gloves to save the few seconds of putting them on due to the lateness. It's a thought to not have again. Always wear a helmet because even with one you will get a concussion, which is no fun.
Below are pictures of the bulk of the other carnage.