Tonight, I had my first bike accident in the city of Toronto.
I’m OK thanks, just major road rash and a bruised rib.
Right near the Yonge and Summerhill Liquor Store. Shots please!
I was biking through the only “real” place where the presence of a bike is a gray area: a path through a city park. Not quite a sidewalk, certainly not a bike path. Right by the entrance to the park, two 8yr old girls decided to dart out in front of me, thankfully at a distance that allowed me to stop.
But unfortunately that distance included a slight downward grade. The following 4 things happened within a matter of seconds: I was
- braking
- reaching for my bell to warn the kids
- trying to shout something
- fighting the left turn of the handlebars as the wheel fought the downgrade
I found myself going over the handlebars.
Then time slowed down, as it does, when you have an accident. Like the last violent punch in Batman Arkham Asylum, I could see myself start the 215lb launch over my K2 hybrid bike. Curiously enough, I could imagine the look on my face as I went down: one of utter dissapointment. Suddenly I was worried I was going to hit one of the kids. Nope. They’re a good distance, but their eyes look like dinner plates. Then I felt really relieved that I was falling on a sidewalk and not the road.
Then the cement hit me.
The back end of the bike came up over me but didn’t crest my body. I instinctively (or so I will brag for the rest of my life) tucked into a perfect Aikido roll and minimized the damage done to my person: a scraped right pinky knuckle and a gash on my elbow. As the bike and I stopped our downward fall, forward roll, I immediately put my right slip-on dress shoe back on.
Yeah, instead of anger, pain or concern, I was worried about my shoe.
Standing and surveying the damage done to my bike, a woman jogger asked, “Are you ok?”
“Yes thanks,” I say. I think I’m in shock. I’m starting to pick up the little tiny plastic bits from my gear changer display from my handle bar. I think, “Why the hell am I picking this stuff up?”
“I think you’re in shock,” she says, “Do you have a cell phone? I can call an ambulance.”
Holy shit is there a bone sticking out somewhere?
Nope.
“I’m… I’m OK. I’m more embarrassed.”
“I understand,” she says taking the hint to minimize the moment. As she puts on her headphones: “I ran face first into a wall once.”
As I turn and test the gears (thankfully only cosmetic damage to the bike), I hear what I assume is a Filipino minder yelling at the girls. I assume this because I was riding through one of Toronto’s most expensive neighbourhoods, Rosedale, and no parent in their right mind up there would take their kids to a park right after rush hour.
Without a word, I get back onto my bike and ride off.
I assure you, I have gone through the gambit of emotions, including bitching out the little girls in an internal shouting tirade that results in a steady stream of tears and emotional scars for life.
Not really.
Now, my chest hurts. I think I’ve bruised an ovary. I’ll most likely take pictures of my damage tomorrow for greater visual impact.
hahahah… impact! I kill me!
12 thoughts on “Virgin No More, or, I Believe I Can Fly”
I’m glad to hear you are ok! I got the “door prize” once and it’ll never happen again.
at least you didn’t hit anybody with the bike (unlike some drunks we know).
I fell down riding onto a curb cut on an obscure street in the ass end of the Beach and pretty much got yelled at for being embarrassed. “Listen. I’m just trying to help OK? You don’t have to use that tone.” Yes, I fucking do, lady! I just side-planted with an audience watching. Who the fuck do you think I am – Andy Kaufman? This shit is mortifying.
Cripes.
I slipped off my pedal once trying to get somewhere fast and fell full on my chest, knocked the wind out of me-self, and broke my collar bone. No one around and I’m lying in the middle of the street. Nice! But I did have my CRASHING hat on!.
I went careening down a hill on rollerblades once, got up and thought I was going to crap my pants (turns out I broke my tail bone and that is the feeling one gets), and had to go to the emergency room where some newly graduated resident fingered me. And in the end, the pain of embarrassment, like you said, hurt more than anything else. Heal up soon!
I’m the same, DR, about the stop signs. Annoys the hell out of me.
I had a similar accident heading to the first softball game of the season (in the pouring rain). I tried to avoid a suspicious looking puddle (they’re always deeper than they seem) and didn’t turn quick enough – the front tire hit the lip of a huge pothole and I went ass over tit, hitting the ground on my elbows. And then the bike slammed into me from behind.
It was awful…and yeah, the strongest feeling was embarrassment for me, too. lol
Glad you’re ok. Sorry about your ovary.
Yes. I do wear a helmet. I signal at stops and even STOP at stop signs. I get all pissier than thou when I do.
Please please tell me you wear a helmet when you bike!
Again! Again!
I know it must hurt and all, and stuff like that is soooo embarrassing, so please forgive me for giggling the whole way through reading this. Not at you of course, just at your description.
Oh shit, now I just sounds like a mean cunt. I can’t wait to see your awesome scars though!
Take a page from that jogger who hit a wall… stop complaining and get back on your bike.
Seriously… I have my fingers on the 9 and the 1, ready do dial. You say the word.