It was February 13th, the only reason I remember that is it was the day before Valentines day. By Chicago February standards, it was a gorgeous day.
I was biking to the train station. Being a frequent cyclist, the thought of being hit by a car has crossed my mind before. I'm riding along, and see this guy, he was on his way for his final test to be a fireman/Emt, an occupation I have nothing but respect for. But he's staring at his passenger seat, while heading towards a stop sign that he doesn't see.
The second I see this, I know it doesn't end well for me, because I'm on a bike, and he's in a truck, albeit a Ford Ranger. Either way, simple physics are at play here.
Again, I've given this scenario some thought, and have come to the conclusion that I would rather be hit and sent flying, instead of being ran over.
So as I see the truck coming, I basically side kick the bumper, and I get launched into the middle of a 4 lane road with a 45 mph speed limit.
I moved fast after landing to get the hell out of the road.
My bike was fucked, but I was reasonably OK. The worst part was I had a round Carmex thing in my pocket. Landed right on it.
I made it to work, and my manager asks why I am limping. I tell him that I got hit by a truck, and he thinks it's funny as hell. I got hit by a truck, still showed up on time, and you're laughing in my face about it. Fuck that. So, since we're in the kitchen area, I drop my pants and show him the softball sized hematoma on my hip from landing on the Carmex container. Hasim Rahman (sp?) would have been proud.
The joviality of my manager ceased, and the conversation was over.
I was biking to the train station. Being a frequent cyclist, the thought of being hit by a car has crossed my mind before. I'm riding along, and see this guy, he was on his way for his final test to be a fireman/Emt, an occupation I have nothing but respect for. But he's staring at his passenger seat, while heading towards a stop sign that he doesn't see.
The second I see this, I know it doesn't end well for me, because I'm on a bike, and he's in a truck, albeit a Ford Ranger. Either way, simple physics are at play here.
Again, I've given this scenario some thought, and have come to the conclusion that I would rather be hit and sent flying, instead of being ran over.
So as I see the truck coming, I basically side kick the bumper, and I get launched into the middle of a 4 lane road with a 45 mph speed limit.
I moved fast after landing to get the hell out of the road.
My bike was fucked, but I was reasonably OK. The worst part was I had a round Carmex thing in my pocket. Landed right on it.
I made it to work, and my manager asks why I am limping. I tell him that I got hit by a truck, and he thinks it's funny as hell. I got hit by a truck, still showed up on time, and you're laughing in my face about it. Fuck that. So, since we're in the kitchen area, I drop my pants and show him the softball sized hematoma on my hip from landing on the Carmex container. Hasim Rahman (sp?) would have been proud.
The joviality of my manager ceased, and the conversation was over.