Our Cub Scouts witnessed the same thing, but without death. We were taking the Pack up in the mountains for some bike riding. Going up the very windy, slow road, we went around a blind sharp left turn. A bombing downhill bicyclist lost control, went down, and slid right under the van. I was expecting a big CRUNCH but our alert driver stopped just before the rear tire rolled over him. We sure had a lot of wide-eyed Scouts who all learned a good lesson.
When I was much younger I used to bicycle race all over the country. I averaged 10,000 miles a year on my bicycles at that time.
Getting through corners and steep turns quickly was one of the things that I practiced. Often when finding your limits you go a little past them and are left with the scars to remind you later.
One time when riding in the winter; when I put the brakes on to stop for a stoplight, I hit some black ice and immediately found myself on the ground and slid all the way through an intersection with a busy 4 lane road. Fortunately, it was early and there was no traffic.
Another time it was raining hard and I hit some gravel on a fairly sharp corner and slid all the way across the road and into the ditch on the other side. When I got I picked a large piece of gravel out of my elbow that I still have an impressive scar from... 35 years later.
There were many other crashes some during races where half a dozen other riders ran over me. But the two I mentioned were the most memorable because at the time I felt so lucky that a car or truck hadn’t hit me.