It happened faster than seems possible, but every
unavoidable accident does. It’s only afterwards that it repeats and repeats and
repeats in slow motion.
I was riding my bike down a beautiful hill on a beautiful day in north Seattle. It’s a long incline on a street call Roosevelt and you can easily hit 40 mph just coasting. It must be about a mile in length.. I was about halfway down the hill when a UPS truck pulled out on my left crossing over Roosevelt. The driver saw me at the last second but by then it was too late. I couldn’t stop and it was squarely in my path so swerving wasn’t an option. I was heading directly for the brown side of the brown truck with brown thoughts preparing to die.
As they often do on nice days the driver had both doors open
and he was perched on the stool seat that looks both precarious and functional.
I was able to steer to my right and when I hit the truck it was right at the
delivery side door. My bike stopped and I continued at perhaps 30mph through
the open door right at the driver. I just had time to put out my arms as I
crashed into him and took him with me cleanly out the other side of the truck. (This
is case where seat belts would have been deadly for both of us). We landed on
the shoulder of the road which was coated with sand, gravel, glass, and a Sunchips bag. I was on
top, he in the less advantageous bottom position which required him to be the
sled and me the rider. We went perhaps 15 feet and came to a gentle stop. I
could see right away that he was hurting. The Sunchips bag was peering cheerily out from behind his shoulder. His brown shorts and short sleeved
shirt were little protection against the glass and gravel covered asphalt
surface. I however was not in much pain. He was a plump soft man and had
absorbed my forward motion in a way that slowed us both gradually.
I immediately called 911 on the cell phone I carried in the
back of my bike sweater and kept him as motionless as I could until the sirens
arrived and someone who knew what she was doing took over. I had a few
abrasions on my fingers where they stuck out of my bike gloves. Otherwise I was
untouched by the crash. I didn't know whether to thank him or yell at him, but considering his condition I kept my mouth shut. His injuries were superficial as far as I know.
My bike was totaled, but a new one arrived the next week in
a brown truck, compliments of UPS, different driver.
The above is fictional
in my case but probably has happened somewhere.
If you have any short
bike fiction send it to me and we will start a collection.