This blog is becoming “Coreen’s Crash Diaries.” I never intended that, but I don’t know what’s been going on lately, it’s been so crazy I hate to relate yet another tale of woe on the roads. Even my friends who’ve known me through the better part of a decade of winter cycling are wondering what’s going on. As I started to recap the most recent events, an old friend of mine asked if I’d been having trouble with my balance and should I get my ears checked out? Truth is, if I had a balance issue, I wouldn’t be writing this now.
A burgundy pick-up truck struck me while I was riding down Jasper Ave on Monday. I was taking the lane, riding in the right hand tire rut, as the shoulders were slick with fresh snow. The truck in question first pulled up behind me at a red light, so there is no doubt that the driver saw me. After the light turned, I proceeded straight through the intersection, still taking the lane. The truck stayed behind me, revving its engine, for about half a block or so and then floored it, striking my shoulder hard with the rear view mirror and grazing my bike and the rest of my body. The pickup then sped away, recklessly weaving through all lanes of traffic. Conveniently, the truck’s license plate was completely obscured with road splatter and snow.
Thankfully, I somehow managed to stay upright and keep control of the bike, and keep my wits enough to steer to safety. As soon as I turned onto the bike path a couple blocks away, I stopped and had a little cry. I’ve had falls and accidents and have even had assholes in pickup trucks (why is it always the pickup trucks?) try to run me off the road, but this is the first time that someone has maliciously struck me with their vehicle. And for what? What message was that driver trying to send me that was worth an attempt on my life? What delay was I causing him that justified vehicular homicide? How twisted a psychopath must one be for that action to make sense?
But I survived, with a jarred sense of decency and an appetite for U-lock justice, still kicking, still riding, still determined to hold my own amongst the dinosaur burners with my sense of humour intact. So what better hit and run therapy than ridiculous snow biking?
Powder up to my hubs!
This lovely print, and copious giggling, result from falling sideways into powder up to my hubs.
A ride across the unplowed expanse of Borden park is nearly impossible right now. However, it’s also next to impossible to get hurt trying.