Today on my ride home my handlebars were struck from behind as I neared the middle of the block separating 31st and 30th streets on Telegraph. As I went flying I thought “Christ, am I still dumb enough to bike without a helmet in a city?” and then as I skid down the asphalt for a few yards, I thought “Ouch.”
I got up, mostly unharmed - road rash and some skin missing, but mostly okay - grabbed my ride - it had become almost wedged under a parked car that I luckily avoided - and looked to see my would-be assailant begin driving off again. After (s)he had stopped. Fantastic.
I sat down on the curb, frustrated but honestly overjoyed to be alive at that very moment and some very nice people talked to me, told me what they saw happen and one named Al ran to get me some bandages and dressings.
Thankfully, people like that exist. So do people like my girlfriend and general amazing source of support, Lucy. She picked me up from Mama Buzz Café after I had started to walk home. She bandaged me up, cooked me dinner and I got the ice cream.
Hit and runs? With no license plates? It was a white car, probably mid-90s, a foreign build, perhaps a civic coupe of some sort. I don’t know. But good god, how much of a low-life do you have to be do something like this?
Sincerely-
Buying a helmet and some underarmor for skidding.