November 2005 Archives

I don't particularly care about the federal election campaign, and assumed I it would be easy to ignore until the New Year when it came time to vote. But this morning as the CBC news came on the radio, I realized the horrible reality of it: my every morning will now start with banal ,meaningless soundbites from Paul Martin, Stephen Harper and Jack Layton as they all peck away at each other like hens in a wire cage. I'm sorry, this is not a healthy way to start a day. There has to be a better way.

I dropped Campbell off at school the other day, and as I walked down the stairs to leave a voice behind me said, "Do these pants make me look fat?" Of course, being a well domesticated male, I know that this is not actually a question so much as a cue to say "No, you look great." The twist in this case is that it was not a woman asking but rather an 8 year old boy wearing track pants. Surreal. I had a giddy sense of freedom, as I realized that I could actually say, "No, it's fine, but I wouldn't tuck the fleece top into them like that, it kinda makes the pants puffy." Which I did. And he said, okay, and off we went in our separate directions, two new millenium guys.

Got my bike back from the store yesterday, as good as old. Funnily enough, the delay in getting it was because I wanted to retain the old flat-style handlebars, and all the cool kids now are using the butterfly style. But they even threw on new brake pads, which was a treat. It was an odd ride home; I felt quite jittery in a few spots, but it was also nice to have the wind against my face again and feel my heart pounding (in a good way) as I climbed the hill by UCC. Excellent to be back -- at least for one ride until the snow showed up ths morning.

As for me, my body is feeling okay. I had a weird week, where the aches and pains seem to be in a different place every day, as if the pain was working its way down through my body like a penny bouncing down one of those funny mazes. But now it seems to have settled on tight ligament on the right of my thigh and bruised shoulder. I am a lucky, lucky man.

After 18 years of cycling in Toronto, the odds finally caught up with me: yesterday I got nailed by a car. Hard.

I was riding along Dupont in the morning, making great time as the weather was beautiful, and I saw a car turn onto Dupont and merge into the slow moving traffic. As I was just about even with him, half a block before Spadina, he suddenly turned hard right and hit the gas, trying to pull into a private driveway. At this point, I was even with his passenger door and probably doing about 20 km/hr. I hit the front left panel of his car very hard, shooting into the air right over the hood. My bike, which is loosely attached to me with toe clips, sailed up and over me, spiralling into the air and landing a good 25 feet away. I hit the ground on my right side, and was thankful, as my helmet lightly bounced off the sidewalk, that I was wearing it.

Then I just lay there for a second and waited to see if there were any sharp pains about to emerge from my body. As I started to sit up, the driver got out of the car looking shocked and mystified at what had just happened. I just looked at him and said, "That's my lane you just turned into. I was riding in it." I wasn't angry or anything, I just didn't know what else to say. I was aware that it was very still around me; everything had come to a halt.

This is where the story gets interesting, beyond the getting creamed by a car bit. The man came over and said, "I'm so sorry, My name is Eric. Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?" When I said I thought I was, he offered to at least buy me a coffee across the street until I was sure. My right thigh was very sore, as I'd landed on the muscle, so he helped me pick up my bike, (which had sustained considerably more visible damage than I had). Then we went and sat down at a coffee shop. Long story short is that Eric, about 50 something, had worked in advertising in the past, and was now a consultant. He was pulling into the driveway (not legal parking) so he could drop off his laundry across the street, and because his turn signal was still on, forgot to check his mirror. He told me that ironically he's from Holland, where not checking for cyclists on your driving test means immediate failure. I told him I understood, that the whole thing was mostly a confluence of events and wrong assumptions (I would have been better to not have assumed that the signal was still from his previous right turn, ameaning I'd have hit him less hard or been able to avoid him) and assured him that I wasn't about to sue him or anything like that.

Then he took me to the Shoppers next door to buy some muscle analgesic for my thigh; put my bike in the back of his car and drove me up to Cyclepath near my office; paid in advance for the repairs (shattered carbon fiber handlebars, trashed front wheel, bent derailler); dropped me at my office door; and called later in the morning to make sure I was okay.

So, bizarrely, all soreness and psychological battering aside, the thing I think I'll remember about this is that against all odds, I was hit by one of the few drivers in this city with the ability to say "I'm so sorry, that was a terrible mistake. What can I do to make it right?" And then proceed to do it. It's amazing that that's all it takes to make most of it okay.