It was just one of those times when, in all the universe, a car door wanted to be in exactly the same space as me at exactly the same time. What are the odds of that?
I’m writing this on the train. I got knocked off about an hour ago, and had to walk to the train station from the marina with a bike over one shoulder and a bag over the other. You always feel OK (even if you’re bleeding) after getting knocked off, unless you break a bone or mash your face. Then about an hour later you start to stiffen up. My shoulders and neck are starting to tighten, my right arse cheek is sore, my right shin seems to have taken a whack, and my back is not feeling too good. It’ll be worse this evening, and then worse tomorrow morning. Oh well. Cycling’s good for you until you get hit by something bigger.
The front wheel is folded, which means the forks are probably bent too, so I’m screwed for cycling to work. Not only am I not going to get home until about 8pm, but when I get there I’m going to have to try and sort out a bike for tomorrow from all my bits in the shed. My handlebars maybe bent, and my left brake lever has been pushed right over. I hope it’s OK – it’s a vintage Dura-Ace pre-STI lever. It must either be bloody expensive or irreplaceable by now. I’ll find out what’s busted up when I get home, and my new dealer (triandbikestore.co.uk) is popping round to drop off some stuff, so he can take a look at it. More business for him (thanks, Dave!)
The powerbook got bent. It still works, but I’d better check the hard disk tomorrow and ring Apple. I backed up today. My PDA seems OK, and so does my iPod. This Crumpler bike bag isn’t even scratched. Pretty good!
The lady that knocked me off picked me up and was very apologetic. It looks like she’s going to have to claim on her car insurance for all this.
My arse is really starting to hurt now.
