Update: It's Bad Karma
Remember that I had a flat on the way into work today? It got worse. On the way home, the back tire went flat again. I rode the bike standing with my weight forward from North Avenue to Addison where there is a little repair shop on the bike path. We confirmed that my tire has a hole in it big enough to see the tube when inflated. This meant that there was a decent chance I would flat again before I made it home. So, I bought an another tube and another CO2 cartridge and went on my way.
So far, so good.
Then I was hit by a car.
Obviously, I am OK. I think that makes me some sort of official member of the urban biking club.
What happened was simple and all too common. I was on Lawndale in Evanston where almost all of the intersections are 4-way stops. Almost all. As I approached an intersection, I saw a silver Toyota approaching and did what I always do at 4-way stops: I looked at the driver, slowed, and proceeded through the intersection confident he would stop. He didn't. Next thing I knew, I was swerving and braking trying to avoid the bumper. The bike hit the front passenger side and I went forward and to my right. I landed hard on my right palm and right knee then the back of my helmeted head.
The first thing I heard was two women who were on the sidewalk screaming. I took off my helmet and banged it on the ground in frustration. The helmet, by the way, probably kept me from needing a lot of stitches in my head. I got up and saw that my knee was bleeding.
The driver came around and we had a brief discussion to determine that I was not seriously hurt and he was OK too. He seemed pretty shaken up. My lawyer-brain had immediate thoughts about excited utterances and state of mind exclamations. Nevertheless, I apologized and pointed to the stop sign on my side of the street. We parted without exchanging any information.
My bike is fine. I rode the last mile and half home. I'm sore and suspect I am going to hurt in the morning. I'm glad I wear a helmet and I am going to have a new respect for stop signs.
So far, so good.
Then I was hit by a car.
Obviously, I am OK. I think that makes me some sort of official member of the urban biking club.
What happened was simple and all too common. I was on Lawndale in Evanston where almost all of the intersections are 4-way stops. Almost all. As I approached an intersection, I saw a silver Toyota approaching and did what I always do at 4-way stops: I looked at the driver, slowed, and proceeded through the intersection confident he would stop. He didn't. Next thing I knew, I was swerving and braking trying to avoid the bumper. The bike hit the front passenger side and I went forward and to my right. I landed hard on my right palm and right knee then the back of my helmeted head.
The first thing I heard was two women who were on the sidewalk screaming. I took off my helmet and banged it on the ground in frustration. The helmet, by the way, probably kept me from needing a lot of stitches in my head. I got up and saw that my knee was bleeding.
The driver came around and we had a brief discussion to determine that I was not seriously hurt and he was OK too. He seemed pretty shaken up. My lawyer-brain had immediate thoughts about excited utterances and state of mind exclamations. Nevertheless, I apologized and pointed to the stop sign on my side of the street. We parted without exchanging any information.
My bike is fine. I rode the last mile and half home. I'm sore and suspect I am going to hurt in the morning. I'm glad I wear a helmet and I am going to have a new respect for stop signs.
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