Green light. Hammer, hammer, hammer. 18, 21, 23, let’s get that kick going. Middlefield Road, about 6:25 this afternoon. I’m humming along with traffic, doing 24 miles an hour. I’m three or four feet from the curb, where I should be. Middlefield is narrow and I’m cruising, as usual, down the right side of the traffic lane. Then, it happened.
I was almost killed.
A car turned sharply off Middlefield onto Lincoln. It didn’t signal right, so I had no advance warning. It crossed my path, I yelped out a quick “hey!” and the rest is a blur. In order to avoid eating the cars spoiler, I veered right, grabbing my brakes, and flying over the handlebars. I distinctly remember the car running over my left pinky and ring fingers. It didn’t seem to hurt at all.
The lady who lives at the corner rushed out with a cordless phone. “The 911 operator wants to know if you need an ambulance,” she reported. A nice man came over and advised me to stay on the ground as he picked my warrior steed out of the street. The driver pulled over and came over to check on me.
Damage to me: scuff on the forehead above my right eyebrow, contusions on the inside portion of right wrist, soreness (sprain?) on thumb and outside of right wrist and hand, lacerations on right elbow, right arm, right inside wrist (glove scarring), lacerations over entire right side from cycling jersey through shorts into legs, right calf, heavy lacerations on both knees, smallish abrasions on left side, and soreness in chest around where I absorbed my 170 pounds of weight.
Damage to bicycle: left bar end shorn off, rear rack bent (needs replaced), back red blinking light destroyed, possible hub wobble, possible spoke damage, cycling jersey, cycling shorts.
Damage to cycling chart: 22 miles.
When I got home, I noticed writing from her tire imprinted on the black road rash stain on my jersey. My roommate failed to get a clear picture of it, so that means I’m down to two jerseys, until this stuff is resolved. Such a perfect imprint in the jersey makes me bite my lip. That’s a 4000 pound automobile’s back tire. The one I thought I didn’t make contact with.
Holy fucking shit.