Traffic Collision #2
Today is a monumental day for me. Today is the day that I experienced a traffic collision. My first lone traffic collision. In my life, I have experienced 2 traffic collisions that I can recall (now that I think about it, maybe I wasn't even in that other one) The first was when my brother Chance was driving, someone slammed on their brakes, causing the car in front of chance to slam on his brakes. With chance not giving his full attention, he rear ended the car was stuck, wedged beneath the car he hit. Dad showed up and we spent a few hours standing around, trading insurance information, talking to police, and then bouncing on Chance's car to leverage it out from under the other one.
Other memorable traffic collisions in my life:
1)Chance totals his brand new, used car. A beautiful car, I only rode in it once. I am the one who picked up the phone when he called.
2)Brett is with Eric, they call about an accident just up the street. It is night, and brett was driving. I remember that someone was afraid Brett would lose his permit for driving at night, and that Dave, our step father did not handle it very well.
3)Some guys crash into the light post directly in front of our house. I was in the back yard playing when I heard the crash, but I didn't know there was a catastrophe in the front until about 15 minutes later. Every time I saw that light post after, I would note the more modern base and be reminded of the accident out side my house.
And now today, I experience what is possibly the most relevant to my life traffic accident ever. Alone and on my bike, I was struck soundly by a UPS truck driver who didn't see that I had the right of way. I saw that the truck might not stop as I was going along, but then I saw it slow a bit, and then in the same moment that I decided to go for it, I realized the truck lurched forward. I remember thinking about how much the truck must weigh in the moments before the collision, and not about my entire life up to this moment, so I was not frightened for my life. I jumped from my bike with the reflexes of a cat made of lighting.
Well, not that fast, I guess, (my aching ribs are a testament to that) but fast enough that the thing under the man's tire was my back wheel, and not my right leg. Despite getting off the bike, I was knocked to the ground, and was on my feet after only a few seconds respite. I'm perfectly fine, but my bike is destroyed. The back tire is curved well beyond the ability to turn it, the frame is bent enough that a new wheel could not be placed on, and the pedals are too mangled to salvage.
He backed up. I pulled my bike to the sidewalk. He parked his truck. I called Danny to let him know I wouldn't be making it to the bike ride I was on my way to. He called his supervisor to let him know he had hit a person. I clutched my ribs. We both waited around till his supervisor showed up. As they were taking my information and getting pictures of the scene and filling out the insurance forms they would need later, I sat on the curb and wondered why this didn't seem more significant. It occurred to me how much the vehicles we all had seemed a lot like the three characters in this little play. I big brown truck, annoyedly blinking its hazards as its owner mutter "shit, man" and nervously fingered a pack of cigarettes he didn't smoke. My little bike pulled to the side, silently contemplating its future with no back wheel and how its size was the reason it was basically dead, and I, its owner, sat on the curb thinking about how losing my transportation changes all my plans and how being the smallest thing on the road really sucks when you are pulled into these little street side dramas. And the over-sized Toyota, stayed just outside the sphere of the accident, waiting patient and ready to help however it could, as its owner, Russ, surveyed the scene, and thought through his responsibilities and duties.
As Russ explained the situation, and how his company would handle it, and what the driver of the truck should do next it sort of occurred to me that all that happened was two people got into a very serious bump. On the road, our bikes and cars are just extensions of ourselves. We grow or shrink based on our needs and desires. We reshape ourselves into an image we like or need, and then we move about as if nothing has changed. We still talk to people, listen to music, eat and drink, think about our day, enjoy the scenery. We even still bump into people. But because we have reshaped ourselves, even a little bump is a very serious occurrence. But there are people who take care of that seriousness. And that's why it didn't seem like a bigger more horrible thing. Because it was just another everyday thing. All the seriousness had been taken care of.
As I loaded my mangled bike into Russ's big truck, the similarities between car and driver solidified in my mind. I trusted Russ, because he had a big reassuring Goliath of a pick-up, and because its so helpful, I believed him when he said everything would be good. That UPS would treat me well, because they need their friendly image. I felt pretty good about my chances of getting the money to replace my bike. I felt that even though I had just been run over by one of their trucks, I would be using UPS for all my shipping needs.
Because, really, I'm okay. I feel pretty good about the whole getting hit by a truck thing.
Other memorable traffic collisions in my life:
1)Chance totals his brand new, used car. A beautiful car, I only rode in it once. I am the one who picked up the phone when he called.
2)Brett is with Eric, they call about an accident just up the street. It is night, and brett was driving. I remember that someone was afraid Brett would lose his permit for driving at night, and that Dave, our step father did not handle it very well.
3)Some guys crash into the light post directly in front of our house. I was in the back yard playing when I heard the crash, but I didn't know there was a catastrophe in the front until about 15 minutes later. Every time I saw that light post after, I would note the more modern base and be reminded of the accident out side my house.
And now today, I experience what is possibly the most relevant to my life traffic accident ever. Alone and on my bike, I was struck soundly by a UPS truck driver who didn't see that I had the right of way. I saw that the truck might not stop as I was going along, but then I saw it slow a bit, and then in the same moment that I decided to go for it, I realized the truck lurched forward. I remember thinking about how much the truck must weigh in the moments before the collision, and not about my entire life up to this moment, so I was not frightened for my life. I jumped from my bike with the reflexes of a cat made of lighting.
Well, not that fast, I guess, (my aching ribs are a testament to that) but fast enough that the thing under the man's tire was my back wheel, and not my right leg. Despite getting off the bike, I was knocked to the ground, and was on my feet after only a few seconds respite. I'm perfectly fine, but my bike is destroyed. The back tire is curved well beyond the ability to turn it, the frame is bent enough that a new wheel could not be placed on, and the pedals are too mangled to salvage.
He backed up. I pulled my bike to the sidewalk. He parked his truck. I called Danny to let him know I wouldn't be making it to the bike ride I was on my way to. He called his supervisor to let him know he had hit a person. I clutched my ribs. We both waited around till his supervisor showed up. As they were taking my information and getting pictures of the scene and filling out the insurance forms they would need later, I sat on the curb and wondered why this didn't seem more significant. It occurred to me how much the vehicles we all had seemed a lot like the three characters in this little play. I big brown truck, annoyedly blinking its hazards as its owner mutter "shit, man" and nervously fingered a pack of cigarettes he didn't smoke. My little bike pulled to the side, silently contemplating its future with no back wheel and how its size was the reason it was basically dead, and I, its owner, sat on the curb thinking about how losing my transportation changes all my plans and how being the smallest thing on the road really sucks when you are pulled into these little street side dramas. And the over-sized Toyota, stayed just outside the sphere of the accident, waiting patient and ready to help however it could, as its owner, Russ, surveyed the scene, and thought through his responsibilities and duties.
As Russ explained the situation, and how his company would handle it, and what the driver of the truck should do next it sort of occurred to me that all that happened was two people got into a very serious bump. On the road, our bikes and cars are just extensions of ourselves. We grow or shrink based on our needs and desires. We reshape ourselves into an image we like or need, and then we move about as if nothing has changed. We still talk to people, listen to music, eat and drink, think about our day, enjoy the scenery. We even still bump into people. But because we have reshaped ourselves, even a little bump is a very serious occurrence. But there are people who take care of that seriousness. And that's why it didn't seem like a bigger more horrible thing. Because it was just another everyday thing. All the seriousness had been taken care of.
As I loaded my mangled bike into Russ's big truck, the similarities between car and driver solidified in my mind. I trusted Russ, because he had a big reassuring Goliath of a pick-up, and because its so helpful, I believed him when he said everything would be good. That UPS would treat me well, because they need their friendly image. I felt pretty good about my chances of getting the money to replace my bike. I felt that even though I had just been run over by one of their trucks, I would be using UPS for all my shipping needs.
Because, really, I'm okay. I feel pretty good about the whole getting hit by a truck thing.