Picture this:

It's a sunny Saturday, and a young guy in his twenties decides to take his new Nissan 280Z out for a spin. Rex Lake Road is nice, because it has some curves and gentle, rolling hills, the perfect road to find out what a sports car can do.

And there's a group of a dozen or so cyclists who have climbed up a hill on a back road and then descended to where the road dead ends and meets Rex Lake. They stop at the intersection to regroup.

The convergence of these two scenes was not a good one.

Nissan dude catches the edge of the road with his front right tire, loses control of the car, and is skidding along the embankment at a very high rate of speed.

It's like time stopped right there. Those two seconds felt like two minutes. My first thought was, "That car is too far away to endanger us". And then my second thought was, "That car is very close to us now, and it's about to flip over and kill all of us." That's when I threw myself, still attached to my bike, off the road into an embankment, away from the impending disaster. I squeezed my eyes closed, cowering, waiting for the event to continue unfolding. And by the grace of God, the car stopped right before it reached where we were standing.

The Nissan dude was ok; he got out of the car immediately, then took his verbal beating from a bunch of angry cyclists. The police were called; the dude's father then shows up driving a Lexus that was also brand new. We collected ourselves. We collected the bikes that were strewn about in our desperate attempts to save ourselves from a sports car hurtling through the air. Then we rode off and finished our ride, after everyone had their wits again.

Everyone deals with near-brushes with death in different ways. I know that as a cyclist I accept a high degree of risk when riding on the roads. But one thing I haven't considered until today is that some drivers (particularly those who are reckless) do not always have control of their vehicles. I don't think the emotional gravity of this incident hit me until I was driving home after my ride was completed. For some unknown reason, I am numb to the possibility of death. I'd like to say that would be because I'm not afraid of it and that if I died today, that my life would have been full and complete; that I was right with God. What upset me, when I was finally alone and could process what happened, is that some of my friends may have been hurt or killed. I don't know how I would be able to deal with the emotional trauma of losing them and seeing it happen in real time.

I've replayed the scene a hundred times in my head this afternoon. I can't fathom the odds of something like this happening. I'm not angry at the driver; he didn't see us when he lost control of the car. I'm not angry, period. Instead I feel thankful that God spared all of us.

I'm happy to be alive today.