It went like this. I got caught at the light, and there was a young guy trackstanding for an eternity, then sped away. I, of course can barely stand, so trackstanding seems impossible. I did catch him and comment on his talents and then blow by him into traffic. I was wailing throught the ring street at the end of Townsend onto John Henry at speed, and this woman in front of me saw a parking spot and stopped. I hit the brakes and watched ... sliding ... an eternity passed. I was picking out how I was going to (safely) land on the back of her car, when she looked up and hit the gas. I think I was less than an inch from her bumber when the car lunged forward. Raise one for the driver. She actually gave up her parking spot to save me.
But don't raise one for this driver.
6 comments:
wow! it's rare that a car realizes what is about to happen with a cyclist.
...unless, she's a cyclist herself.
i know that skidding feeling. seems like it lasts forever as time slows down.
Front brake, Shawn. It'll keep you from skidding and stop you much more quickly. Scoot back on the seat to keep the rear wheel on the ground.
You have no idea the scene. I was hard at it doing thirty, suddenly she was at five. Me -- seriously -- all wheels skidding ... skidding, sitting back on the saddle, fully down, relaxed, watching as I approach my destiny, knowing that I am going to collide. Turning the wheel hard to give me an extra foot. Knowing ... knowing ...
Screaming out. You forgot screaming.
Her tapping the gas and me being spared.
Me riding around her to say thank you.
Holy cow! Crazy!
Okay, 30 mph. I guess that's a good excuse to skid :-)
The fact checkers tripped me up again ... My max for the month according to my maxometer, was 24.2, which virtually assures that I was less than thirty.
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