Katie,
With your "good fortune" , or attraction to "off-the-beaten-path"
experiences, you might want to consider continuing to compete in closed cars
or, even get a roll bar before the road "gets-on-top-of-you" one of these
days :-)
Don
----------
>From: "Kelly, Katie" <kkelly@spss.com>
>To: "'ba-autox@autox.team.net'" <ba-autox@autox.team.net>
>Subject: BIKE CRASH
>Date: Mon, Jul 23, 2001, 2:52 PM
>
>According to my master plan, I shall not purchase the road bike until
>October, even November. The original reasoning was one of money conservation
>and thorough research before making this purchase.
>
>In the meantime, in an effort to conserve fuel and get some exercise, I
>decided to dust off my trusty Trek 850. The stories behind this bike are not
>very interesting.
>
>But I don't think I published this to this list or not, but last March I had
>parachuted in Buckey, AZ. The day before, I went mountain biking on the
>rocks in Sedona. Anyway, I thought what happened in Sedona was just bad
>luck, but I'm starting to think it was an omen.
>
>What happened in Sedona was, after a full day of walking my bike on the
>rocks and through the canyons, on the way back to the bike rental shop,
>while travelling on a dirt, yet straight, path, some invisible force
>propelled me into a tree. The lasting result is a nearly foot long scar
>running down my left thigh. It looks like a true battle wound, something
>that could conjur up images of me, in an act of athletic glory, failing to
>make that landing from one rock to another, but the true story is, there was
>simply no reason for me to hit that tree.
>
>My other two accidents, which happened last Friday, are no less glamarous,
>but are, I believe, a form of communication, in the shape of an accident.
>
>The first message occured in the morning, as I was lifting up the bike rack
>at the front of the bus. I was merely waving to the bus driver, the polite
>thing to do, while stepping backwards. Well, what happened was, I don't know
>what happened. I tripped over the bike, and fell on my right side, on to my
>bike.
>
>And it really hurt, and I was really embarassed, but that just pales in
>comparison to what happened later, that fateful afternoon.
>
>I decided to get off at San Quentin, to get in a full ride all the way home
>to downtown San Rafael.
>
>It was a lot hotter in San Rafael than in Pt. Richmond. So, I tied my
>sweatshirt around my waist.
>
>And what happened was, I was peddling as hard as I could, have to get in
>shape, you know, approaching a very busy intersection, signaling, with
>confidence, that I was going to turn left in the middle of a whole bunch of
>angry people in their cars who could kill me quite easily, if they wanted
>to.
>
>And suddenly, my trusty 850 was slowing down, for no reason. What? Is the
>tire going flat? What's going on? Better pull over, I thought. Get out of
>the way. So, it was as I was turning right to pull over that my sweatshirt
>completely locked the rear wheel, and I suddenly went sliding down the
>asphalt, landing in precisely the same spots, the same bruises, where I had
>fallen that morning, while saluting the bus driver.
>
>It really hurt, yet, somehow, as I was falling, I felt like I knew what I
>was doing, flopping to the ground like that. Practice really does make
>perfect. And although I did not see the car coming, I had successfully moved
>my being and bike to the side of the road, and began a pacing-limping ritual
>first perfected after landing in the tree.
>
>But what hurt more were the two drunk women who saw the whole thing in the
>bar, and came running over to help me. "Man, you almost got killed!" said
>one of them. "Holy $#it, you need some water, honey?"
>
>I wanted to just keep going, to just get this out of my system.
>
>"Girl, you need to sit down. Look at her, shakin' like that."
>
>"Looks like you need to get used to your bike, honey."
>
>"You almost got hit by that car, did you see that? That was close!"
>
>"Ah, she's got some road burn on 'er, look at that!"
>
>"Ooowee, how you gonna get home?"
>
>I escaped that terrible scene, and thankfully, eventually, made it home.
>Thanks to a friend, who happened to be nearby, who gave me a ride home in
>her Saab.
>
>If anything, I'm developing a deeper respect for gravity.
>
>Katie K.
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