By Jeremy Markovich / WCNC Producer

I was about two miles away from work when my bike seat exploded. I'm serious.

It didn't fall off. It didn't wobble its way free of the chassis. It detonated like a pipe bomb located in the vicinity of my rear end.

It had been a little loose to begin with. I'd ignored the problem until 8:30 Thursday morning; the very moment that seat parts spewed forth on to the asphalt below.

I probably could have seen this coming. I've been riding my bike to work a couple of days a week. I do it mainly to save gas. I figure the 11 miles I ride round trip saves me $1.75 a day in fuel costs. I probably make that up by getting more junk food out of the vending machine upstairs. I do get hungry when I burn calories.

I was thinking about food when my seat blew up (disclosure: I think about food a lot). I heard a loud clicking sort of noise, followed by the clanging of metal against the pavement on Murrayhill Road. By that time, I'd already lurched forward in my seat. I credit my cat-like reflexes for saving my life. I was this close to pitching head-first into somebody's mailbox.

I'm also lucky I didn't impale myself on the only part of the seat left: the metal post.

I suppose this goes with the territory. Bikes don't come standard with air bags. I'd always though about that when I used to pedal the old way to work: down Archdale Drive, then up Old Pineville Road. There's a bike lane there, but drivers view it as more of a suggestion, not a lane they need to avoid. I'd suggest that they not come within three inches of me.

Also, I'd suggest that they not yell mean things out the window. I know I don't look manly in a bike helmet. But you don't have to tell me about it.

I started taking a new route a few weeks ago. Thursday, I had to pedal the rest of that route the hard way. Ever ride a bike without a seat? It's involves standing up and stomping on the pedals. Kids do this when they're on their little BMX bikes and they want to look like they're going really fast. I remember doing the same thing. I just don't remember it being so tiring.

On Thursday, I stomped for two miles down Scaleybark and trudged into work--five minutes late. I told my sad story to anyone who'd listen. I don't know if that made my tardiness ok. There's no category on my electronic timecard for "bike trouble."

Today, I rode my bike to work again with a new bullet-proof seat assembly and a new found sense of pride. I had survived to pedal another day. But please, if you see me on the road, make sure you stay in your lane. And keep your comments about my helmet to yourself.

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