Getting Hit by a Car

In a way it's surprising that I haven't been hit by a car before. I mean, there was that time years ago when a car very slightly clipped my wheel out in Falls Church, but that doesn't count. And there was the time back in Brooklyn when I was stopped behind a bus which suddenly decided to back up, causing me to do a superhero-like leap to the sidewalk, pulling my bike behind me. But actual Jesse-to-vehicle contact? Until now I had been lucky.

Last Sunday morning had started off in a lazy way, just reading the paper and puttering around the house. I decided that I wanted to get out and get at least a little exercise so I set out on a random bike ride around Arlington. In randomly riding with no real direction I always discover new areas, and the topography of Arlington begin what it is, I always wind up doing some nice hills.

On this day I hadn't meandered far - only up as far as Marymount, when I decided I had met my minimum movement quotient for the day and started heading back. Again meandering down this street and that, I charted a route that was taking me towards the Custis Trail, figuring that once I intersected with it I'd just take the bike trail the rest of the way home. And I almost made it.

I was whizzing down Frederick Street south of N. 10th St. This block dead-ends at the Custis Trail, so I was very close to being home free. The street also has a bit of a grade (3% according to Strava) so I was moving quickly (at least compared with my usual sloth-like speed) down the hill. I passed St. Ann's church apparently just as some event was letting out. Suddenly, a car pulled out in front of me to make a U-turn to get out of the dead end. Driver didn't look, just pulled out right in front of me. Oh, crap! According to my Strava log I'm doing about 24 MPH at this point, and suddenly there's a very solid looking Honda Accord directly in front of me. I squeeze the brakes as hard as I can. My speed drops quickly, but there's no way I'm going to stop in time. And then ... whap! I do the full Wile E. Coyote splat against the side of the car. The only thing missing was that the driver didn't roll down her window and say, "Meep! Meep!" as I lay flattened against the side of the car.

It felt pretty much like this

After everything came to a stop I took a mental inventory of what was going on. My bike had turned sideways and I was pinned in between the bike and the car, still clipped in. My adrenaline was pumping, but nothing seemed to be seriously hurting. As I started to untangle myself the driver got out, horrified and terribly apologetic and asked if I was OK. I said I wanted to sit down for a minute and dragged my bike over to the curb and sat down. I was a little dazed and the main thing I was thinking at that point was that I didn't want to have a heart attack from the stress of the accident.

After a minute or two I came to my senses enough to begin checking myself and my bike out more thoroughly. Meanwhile, the driver, who I don't want to publicly shame but whose name is Alison King, kept apologizing and offering to help. I noticed that my left hand hurt - it must have impacted the car. My bike seemed OK except that the chain had come off and had wrapped itself in an improbable way around the bike. I had a scrape of blue paint on my bike frame and my rear view mirror had come off the handlebars. I guess I was a little more dazed than I realized because I was stumped at how to get the chain back on. It was actually reckless driver Alison King who stepped in and (getting her hands nice and greasy) put the chain back on.

See the scratch on the fuel door? That's from the accident

My bike now has a Honda blue stripe on it

A couple of other people stopped. As the driver and I were debating whether to call the police, a fellow congregant said, "I'm a lawyer, and let me tell you, it's not worth the hassle of having the cops involved" - though whether she was considering the driver's interests or mine, I don't know. As we were fussing with putting the bike back together someone else - apparently a cyclist, since she mentioned having bike tools in the car - offered to help, but we had it under control by that point. I remember feeling good that the driver was at least suffering a little public humiliation from having all her church friends see her hitting a cyclist. That'll give her something to talk about at next week's confession.

Except for my hand (which seemed bruised but not obviously broken), I was starting to feel better. I took reckless driver Alison King's contact information but refused her offer of a ride home. At that point, as I mentioned up top, I was almost at the entrance to the bike trail, and from there it was an easy ride home. I mounted my bike and rode home very slowly. By the time I got home I had a big lump on my left hand and it was starting to turn color.

My hands shortly after the accident

It's now nine days later and my hand is not yet fully recovered. The swelling and bruising have faded, but it's still a little swollen and there's still a tender spot between the knuckles of my index and middle fingers.

Still swollen and bruised a couple of days after the accident

It seems like every week you hear about a cyclist being hit, and all too many of those accident victims suffer serious, even fatal injuries. While I can't say I'm glad that I was in an accident with a car, I feel fortunate that it wasn't more serious. Had she pulled out a little earlier and hit me (rather than me hitting her) it probably would have been much worse.