Sometimes the trails cross roads, and of course at those crossings are all the usual accoutrements of pedestrian-cyclist-car interaction; this afternoon I coasted up to the crossing signal at one of the busier streets I have to cross when I am Cycling Commuter Guy, and pressed the button to cross, waiting for the green light and the little white crossing man to appear. After a few seconds letting the sweat dribble down my scalp, the little man appeared, and I began my crossing of the four lanes, three of which passed without incident.
In the fourth was a dark blue sedan, which had slowed pursuant to making a right turn. The driver's side window was up, and reflections prevented me from seeing the driver; and apparently she didn't see me either, because as I crossed from the third lane to the fourth, it dawned on me that the car wasn't stopping. Those cliches about time slowing down, events inevitable yet drawn out? All true, apparently; I started to steer left, away from the oncoming vehicle, but the voice inside my head said, "You're going to be hit by a car." Perfectly matter-of-fact, you understand.
I think the left front corner of the car hit my front wheel, which then caused me to fall against the hood of the car, whereupon I did one of those Rockford Files-type rolls up the hood until I reached the windshield, when I fell off onto my knees to the left of the car.
The internal voice said, OK, quick inventory. Arms 2, legs 2, fingers 10, feet 2, torso seems intact, vision ok, head seems ok. Then the bike; down, but not obviously damaged. By this time, the woman driving the car had emerged, fluttering about Oh my God are you OK? I didn't see you at all etc. Interestingly enough, I felt fine; my right knee a bit scraped up, but other than that, I was positively jovial, and I calmed the woman down. I thought the car had hit the rear wheel, and so I carried the bike to the curb and spent several minutes fussing with the derailleurs while the woman said – a bunch of stuff, I don't really remember.
Eventually, she gave me her name and number – I probably wouldn't have thought to ask – and I took off, and only then noticed that the front wheel was now bent, though still somewhat rideable. There seemed to be a bit more – resistance – as well. Well, nothing for it but to carry on and cycle the remaining 2.5 miles to home.
Tomorrow, I'll drive the bike to the bike shop, and get the damages assessed; other than a skinned right knee, and a whopping bump on my left shin, I seem to be ok – or at least nothing that a bit of feminine attention and a few glasses of Mumm Napa Blanc de Noir can't help.
Glad to hear that you are OK.
And I have learned over the years that it is best to assume that drivers do not see you when you are on a motorcycle or a bicycle, or you are walking -- unless you have proof that they do see you.
Posted by: Jim Miller on July 17, 2007 08:15 AM
Ditto on everything that Jim wrote.
Posted by: Jonathan on July 17, 2007 10:26 AM
Wow, that stinks. Glad you are ok. Be sure to get the "Ben-Hur" accessory kit for your next bike commute.
Posted by: Joe Kristan on July 17, 2007 05:05 PM
Also glad to hear you're OK.
Those cliches about time slowing down, events inevitable yet drawn out? All true, apparently; I started to steer left, away from the oncoming vehicle, but the voice inside my head said, "You're going to be hit by a car." Perfectly matter-of-fact, you understand.
That's the adrenalin talking. Happened to me once when I spun out on a snowy highway. Don't touch the brakes! it said. Then, about a half hour (subjective time) later, Um, maybe you'd better slow down. We might go into the median and that would be bad.
After I recovered I drove home (I was 99 miles into a hundred mile trip), unloaded my car, and spent a good hour shaking and cramping. That's the adrenalin, too.
Posted by: Angie Schultz on July 18, 2007 10:19 AM
Thanks for all the good wishes. Normally, when crossing a street, I try to make sure that I make eye contact with drivers on a potential collision course, but that isn't always possible, especially when the windows are rolled up, or (60% of the time) the driver is already distracted because they're yakking on a cell phone.
Anyway, I appear to be healing up well. The bike took the brunt of the damage, and will probably end up with most of its front end replaced. As my boss said, "See what 'going green' does for you?"
Posted by: David Fleck on July 19, 2007 08:07 AM
Joe - hey, that Ben-Hur accessory kit is a great gift idea for D's next birthday.
Posted by: Moira on July 19, 2007 09:14 AM
I was biking this morning. At one point, when I wasn't paying attention, I heard a tire-squealing noise. I looked up and saw a car that had just passed me. It was about a block ahead of me and was returning to the traffic lane, apparently after drifting into the right curb. This was on a straight road with two wide lanes with a bike lane and light traffic. I assume the driver was having a phone conversation.
Posted by: Jonathan on July 19, 2007 12:49 PM
During my very first semester at the U. of Miami, my roommate (on his bicycle) was hit from behind by a car somewhere in the Coral Gables - South Miami area. He got bruised and abraded pretty badly, and the bike was totalled. He said the car never stopped or even slowed down.
Posted by: David Fleck on July 20, 2007 06:26 AM
When I was in Australia one of my colleagues was hit by a truck while on his bike, and broke his collarbone. He came back to work after the incident with his arm in a sling. The hospital said that, aside from immobilizing the arm, there wasn't much to be done about a broken collarbone, and turned him loose. (Socialized medicine!)
For some reason there were only women in the department that day, and so naturally we fussed over him some. He insisted he was fine.
The next thing we know he's on the floor. He'd got there under his own power, saying that he just needed a wee lie down, having come over all woozy like. It might have been the drugs he'd been given.
The sysadmin drove him home. I think he'd planned to bike home.
Posted by: Angie Schultz on July 20, 2007 10:20 AM
Hafta ask . . . did you walk bicycle? I don't always either even after I crossed a street once, turned sharply left right behind a car, skidded on gravel, fell down (feet locked in pedals), left arm slipped under wheel. Light turned green and I screamed but not before I got some the skin on the underside of my arm so squeezed that my arm swelled like a water balloon. I've been pretty lucky, I suppose but dread anything worse. Glad you're okay.
Posted by: Steve Shaak on July 20, 2007 10:58 AM
Ouch.
No, I don't walk the bike. It would be... unmanly.
Posted by: David Fleck on July 23, 2007 08:41 AM