We were riding side-by-side on an ample shoulder/bike lane on Highway 36 -- a north/south corridor that hugs the foothills of the Rockies and serves as the gateway to any number of canyon roads climbing up into the mountains. I rode near the white line and Scott rode to my right, at the outside of the shoulder (near the dirt/grass).

An Explorer driving southbound at around 60mph (the posted speed limit) was driving toward us. It started to veer across the road. At first, I thought it was to pass traffic. When it then veered into the northbound traffic lane, we knew something was up. We both said some expletive as we realized what could happen. Then it veered into our bike lane and was speeding right for us. All of this and the following details happened in 2-3 seconds tops.

I look at Scott, look at the Explorer and realize my only way to live is to swerve my bike hard out into the northbound traffic lane. As I swerve out, I look back at Scott and pray that he was able to dive his bike down into the grassy ditch. The Explorer was heading straight down the bike lane, so the grass would have been safe. As I look back at Scott, I see the Explorer hit him head on. I feel the very close rush of wind pass me by as the SUV narrowly misses me as well.

I screech to a halt, screaming and crying. I throw my bike down and run back to Scott's body. As I'm running, his bike is still spinning cartwheels in the air. I check for his pulse and touch his abdomen and chest to feel for breathing. He's dead. I look up and the Explorer is finally coming to a stop after running through some farmer's fences and it hits a ditch, a couple hundred yards away. Then I notice that below the knee, Scott's left leg is missing.

I stayed with him for over 2 hours until the coroner came and took him away. The accident happened at around 7:50 a.m. today [Monday, May 30]. I've grieved with many, many people. I'm about to go show his widow as much strength and support as I possibly can. The driver had fallen asleep at the wheel.

Unfortunately, whenever we head out the door, this is a stark, horrific reminder of what can happen to each of us, no matter how safely we ride. Please, please, please be safe out there.

Nate Llerandi