Race a bicycle long enough and you're bound to hit the pavement.  Actually, you don't even have to be a racer, just someone who trains long enough for the odds to catch up.  I got my first road bike in 1985 and have lots of scars to show for it. Some of them self-induced, sliding out hauling ass around corners thinking I'm Eddie Mercx or someone.  Other episodes involved other riders knocking me down or putting me in situations where crashing was unavoidable.  Whichever the cause, the resulting grief usually entailed only frequent dressing changes and sticky sheets for a week or two.