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Crash

Early morning ride. The reason why I brought this bike that day.

The bruises have almost faded now. A few deep and dark bruises near my knee were the only evidence that I was hit by a car. Hard.

I was approximately 200 meters away from my destination. And from where I was I could see the car at a standstill. I proceeded straight ahead, yet he somehow must not have seen me as he went straight ahead too. I tried turning away from him, but by then it was too late. The right side of my body smashed into his car and I hit the asphalt painfully. I felt my head bounce several times and for the nth time, I prayed and thanked God I had my helmet on.

This isn't the first time I've been hit. Over the past five years of bike commuting, I've been hit by wayward doors, jeepneys, cars and even a truck that tried to squeeze me out of the road. I've carried my bruises like proud battle scars or accessorized them with a sheepish grin when the accidents were my fault.

This, however, felt different. Perhaps it was the way my body felt as it hit the ground. The impact was more forceful than any crash I could remember. For a few moments, I thought it was an extremely serious accident, since I couldn't move any of my limbs. As I lay on the asphalt and tried to ignore the gathering crowd, I listened to my body and knew that I would only have a few bruises.

It took me longer than usual to get to my senses. All the anger that I was supposed to throw at the driver dissipated as I lay on the ground trying to recover. Several helpful individuals assessed me quickly, checking if I had a concussion or asking where there was pain.

I couldn't stand on my right foot and I was brought to the infirmary. The x-rays showed I had no broken bones but I was shaken up inside. I was unable to get the driver's contact information and I only had his plate number as my reference.

Wheelchair at the infirmary. 

What shook me from my dazed state was seeing my handlebars all bent out of shape. It really had to be the classic road bike. This is one of the reasons why I got a cheap single speed bike-- for moments like this. I shook my head at the irony.

A more aerodynamic handlebar position?

The next day, I took public transportation to all my destinations. Yet I found myself staring wistfully at all the bikers that passed by the vehicles I was in. The day after, I was back on my bike.

I'll never know what will make stop biking. Or even why I continue to do this. I feel like I am a smarter and more careful biker than I was a few years ago. The sad part is (and this goes for motorists in general), no matter how careful I am, it doesn't matter if there is one wayward driver.