Everyone Knows It’s Windy
Pedaled off to ‘work’ this morning, blown by a strong fall wind and occasionally being overtaken by empty plastic bags. My longish wool tartan wraparound skirt was flapping helpfully along, too. Anything that flails when you’re in full commuter traffic here in the county is a life-saver. I don’t wave my arms wildly very often because it would seem nuts, but a garment that whips around randomly can do the trick when it’s enhancing visibility and attracting the overtaxed attentions of the motorists who hold the key to your survival.
I like to think the ones behind me do see me. To imagine what percentage of drivers are not even ‘in the moment’, speeding along the road makes me feel ill. This is why I already picked an epitaph: “Sorry I Was In Your Way”. In the interested of Looking Where I Wanna Go (and NOT Where I Don’t Wanna Go, just like when you ride) I shouldn’t ‘imagine’ epitaphs but there is a part of me convinced , because I spend so much time doing errands au velo, that something’s bound to happen. In which case I hope it’s a massive inconvenience to the person who hit me.
My friend Kay was hit (she was on foot) and the driver wasn’t even CITED (i.e.given a traffic ticket). K. spent three days in the Intensive Care Unit, and the police were treating it like it was just a …thing that befalls people.
That’s nothing compared to Joanne B.who rides daily to work, was nailed while riding through her elementary school’s parking lot (well known for being a gladiator pit of SUV territoriality and sedan-jockeying). The police lay the blame on her, even though the motorist drove over her.
Mmm. It’s a nice day. Do I have to open it with a tirade?