Guest blahg from my favorite bicyclist
I opened my email one morning a couple weeks ago and there was a message from the beach urchin Elizilla, my 20-something daughter who lives in San Francisco’s Mission District. The subject was “Oops” and she described an experience in which she was “doored” while riding her bike. I am not much of a bicyclist myself, so it took me a few beats to process exactly what “doored” meant and then of course my imagination began dreaming up all kinds of horrible things that *could* have happened. I have witnessed a couple of horrific bike accidents in my time, one in which the cyclist sailed high into the air. Of course I do *not* want that kind of thing to happen to my daughter!
Anyway, she didn’t sail into the air and she is fine and here with us on The Planet Ann Arbor for the holidays and I didn’t even have to ask her to guest blahg! The photos are of her on less eventful rides so, without further ado, here is Liz, in blue:
Two weeks ago, several friends and myself left our neighborhood around 6:30 PM to ride bikes downtown and join a semi-organized bike ride around San Francisco. We were nearly at the meeting point when my plans were cut short because I was doored. We were riding in the bike line, in between a lane of parked cars and a traffic lane. As always, I was wearing a helmet, had bright lights on my bike, and was wearing light colors (my messenger bag is white).
The rule of thumb when riding in the bike lane is to stay close to the left side, in case someone in a parked car on your right opens a door in front of you. It was rush hour, so all of the car traffic was stopped. In a freak occurrence, as I got past the intersection, someone decided to get out of a cab on my left, into the bike lane and that’s how I was hit.
We had just been stopped at a red light, so I wasn’t moving nearly as fast as I could have been. My left hand collided with the door, I pitched forward and hit my shoulder, then fell sideways off of my bike, running my knee into my pedal on the way down and bruising that, too. It was fairly painful but didn’t merit a doctor visit until a few days later, when I decided I wanted to get my hand checked before going out of town for the holidays. I didn’t want to find out three or four weeks after that fact that my hand was broken. It isn’t fractured but is still bruised and tender.
Why am I telling you this? The moral of the story is, regardless of your feelings toward bikers, where and when we should be riding, and whether or not we are assholes, please please please look before opening your door into traffic.
December 29th, 2010 at 8:25 pm
I try to always be aware of everything on the road–but it can be hard at times, especially at night.
December 29th, 2010 at 10:01 pm
How about the bike?
December 30th, 2010 at 1:38 pm
Bike was uninjured!