As a biker, I can't say that I've come anywhere near death (thankfully)
My story happened this summer when the missus and I were on holiday in Canada driving a rented motorhome.

We'd just (barely) survived nearly two weeks worth of driving on the wrong side of the road etc, and were driving back to Vancouver on our last full day with the RV. As we hadn't had the chance to pump out the effluent for a couple of days, we decided to take advantage of a rest area on the freeway that had pump out facilities. All went well until it was time to rejoin the freeway.

As I was accelerating down the slip lane, I identified a gap that I thought I'd be able to pull into if the white pick-up that was coming down the carriageway would just slow down a wee bit. As I got to the end of the slip lane, I realised that he wasn't going to let me in, and I was forced to lift off and take to the shoulder. As the pick-up cruised by, I made out the initials "RCMP" on it's side. I'd been cut up by a copper.

Bastard.
(31 year old train driver who may or may not have just celebrated a birthday recently, Wed 1 Dec 2004, 1:26, Reply)