I head a loud crack and suddenly my bicycle seat was several inches lower than it had been. I couldn’t pedal with my butt so low, and was moving at a pretty high speed. Fortunately I managed to slow down and steer the bike to a safe landing on one side of the bike trail. The bolt holding the saddle to the frame had snapped in half. That bolt could be 20 years old – the age of the mighty Bridgestone XO-3 – so I’m not angry at Mr. Bolt.
It was my good fortune to not be in traffic or zooming down a hill when this happened. There’s no snappy ending for this tale. I’m just glad that I got another 30-mile ride in before the summer disappeared, and survived to get a fortune cookie that night.