Well... it was inevitable, eventually.
I had a weather-related crash this morning on the commute. Actually, two of 'em.
I did fine on the "flat."
But I got to the "Americana hill," and decided to take the sidewalk.
(The hill, for those who are not intimately aware, is a 5-lane roadway, 30mph speed limit that is never observed, with a wide sidewalk on either side. It is roughly 1/4 mile from top to bottom, and I'd guess there's a 50-foot elevation change. It's also a northward-facing grade, so it doesn't get much sun, particularly this time of year.)
I normally ride down in the right-hand traffic lane, going within 2 or 3 mph of the posted limit. (Of course, all the speeders have to go around me in the other lane.)
But on snowy, icy days, I lean toward the sidewalk, only because the curb gives me an additional measure of protection from sliding-out-of-control cars and trucks. (Rule to live by: You can probably survive a bicycle crash, but crashing the bike and then getting run over could spoil your day!)
This morning, it was snowing - actually quite heavily, but at ride-time, only maybe 1/8 inch of accumulation. That 1/8 inch of snow was no problem on flat, smooth pavement, but I hit that sidewalk and it was 1/8-inch of new snow-cover over mounds of frozen slush, snowmelt from the previous day that had frozen, etc.
The first crash was maybe 50 feet into my sidewalk sojourn. I was going slow, and no damage. I picked up my sorry carcass, and decided to give it another go. VERY slowly and deliberately. I got another 50 feet or so, and down I went again!
The second crash was ever-so-slightly more severe. I tore a small hole in the knee of my britches, and there's a corresponding strawberry-size patch of road rash on my knee.
DANG IT! Those britches were almost new! (Dickies work pants - I'm not a GQ-kind-of-guy. I'm glad I chose not to put on the $100 Gore-Tex overpants.)
I walked (walked and slipped actually - it was VERY slippery!) down the hill to where it started leveling off a bit, then mounted up and rode on in.
Fortunately, the Missus is a seamstress, and she can patch my britches up so they're functional again.
And when I wax philosophical, I could buy 3 pairs (!!) of those pants for the cost of one flippin' tank of gas. So my high estimation of bikes-as-transportation has not been severely impacted.