Okay, i fudged the truth the last time a little. I actually have had a few New York biker mishaps worth telling. I didn't wanna scare ma. Did you hear about the biker last year who got caught between two busses when the gap between them disappeared? Maybe at the last second, he or she could have leapt up onto the seat, and sprang up to climb on top of one of the busses. I like to think that would be my move...but in that situation, the thought process was probably "Hey whoa, what's goin'-". And then horrific pain the likes of which none of us have ever experienced, then death.
So ma, go grade some papers, okay?
THE KISS
The kiss is actually kind of cute. NY bikers are like men who make minimum wage - we get kissed, just not often. I was going north on Park Ave. at sunset, between 15th and 25th. I came up to a moving street cleaner, a Formula 409-spewing zamboni. Since it was literally brushing the curb, i swerved to go around left, between the sweeper and the other lane of traffic. As i was mid-sweeper, one of those enormous SUVs (with tinted windows, how precious) came by on the left, and suddenly gave a little lurch in my direction. Maybe he saw a woodchuck. I don't fault his driving skills, but i do question the necessity of having a vehicle literally as wide as a tank. I would say that i feel sorry for his girlfriend, but at this point any woman who dates an Asscalade-driver has to pretty much know what she's getting into. Anyway, the frame of the car gave me a solid shoulder nudge. I re-balanced and maintained speed, and the Asscapade zoomed on. New York, baby.
THE DOOR
This one's actually not so cute. The one accident which is the unspoken fear of every city biker is the opening car door. This is the only one we really don't like to think about, for there is virtually no predicting or avoiding it. It happens when someone in a parked car opens their door directly in your path. Even when you see it with enough time to swerve, often that's no option because there's a traffic lane twenty-two inches to your left. And when it happens with less response time than that, the only response is a primal, guttural shout to try to frighten the driver. I can't be the first NY biker to wish that idiot car companies would reverse the position of the hinges on car doors, so that striking bikers would glance off. I barely avoided disaster a few times on this one, until an unfortunate day in Jersey City. I'd been nominated to return our home's cable box and dvd player, so i was carrying a double load, with backpacks on front and back. Even if i'd been at flyweight, this was one tumble i'd never have avoided. At the worst possible second, ssshhwing opens the door. No time to even shout. Full speed collision into the door's interior. My bike caroms off, and i'm catapulted over the door onto the pavement somewhere beyond. One of my pieces of electronic cargo goes skittering away. The driver is apologetic. No obvious debilitations, so i collect my cargo and continue the journey. The apathetic cable company clerk doesn't inspect the box for scratches, the bike is okay, and the rider has one broken finger. Being an american, i have no health insurance, so self-diagnosis must suffice. I got doored again a year or two later, in Manhattan as a taxi passenger door opened onto the curb. No injuries except for my hopeful libido, when the dewy russian tourist inside the cab fails to call me up later, to make sure i'm okay.
AMERICA'S FUNNIEST UNTAPED VIDEO
It is one of the crimes of the year that no cameras caught this one. Early one morning, i was traveling north up 9th (yes, 9th is south-bound, now shut up), somewhere between 24th and 34th. I was on the right side of the street (which is actually the wrong side...well, either side was the wrong side). A bike lane had just ended, and i was waiting for a good moment to cut over to 10th, when the road threw up the strangest little half-curb you've ever seen, at the strangest little angle, cutting right into my path. There was some snow on the ground from an old storm, which contributed to me missing the curb. Or, i should say "not seeing" the curb. If i'd "missed" the curb, none of the ensuing comedy would have occurred. The curb immediately began pushing me to the left, while slowly taking my wheels out from under me. It all kind of happened in slow motion at that point. As my bike went out, i leapt into the air. I had been going fast, and my inertia carried me probably seven or eight feet before my feet touched ground. At that point my single motivation was to not end my dismount facedown in macadam. My feet began a pinwheeling motion as i strained to stay upright. My spinning legs carried me forward...in the end, i estimate that my feet hit the ground some 20-25 times before i got myself under control. But i did not go down. Thirty feet away, a group of pedestrians waiting for a bus slowly applauded. I raised my arms to them, and to the throngs in the invisible grandstands. I collected my bike, and was off.
Long live the NY biker.
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