I was crossing an intersection to reconnect to the bike path, coming to a near stop to check for clearance, as I am wont to do. This usually gets me sneers and jeers from my cycling cohorts, but I’d rather live, thanks.
It still didn’t ward off the driver turning left, traveling at too fast of a speed in the opposite direction, I
think know, to notice me or the jogger in the crosswalk, also travelling in my opposite direction. The jogger stopped on her heals, while I, now in the middle of the intersection, with mad driver squealing around the turn, made the gut choice to pedal harder, as stopping would land me directly in the driver’s path.
Seeing as he was not intending to slow down, I made the next logical step, which was to yell, “Whoa!”
I am not certain if this is what convinced the driver to slam on his or her brakes, violently, sending the car’s front end slamming into the uneven pavement below, never mind leaving skid marks on the pavement that are likely as long as the skid marks in my bike shorts.
Whatever happened, I made it. Not everyone does. My heart breaks.