I got hit by a van. It was really bloody scary. I’m ok. But I wasn’t.
Everyone’s blaming the guy, but it might partly have been my fault. I don’t think I can walk away from what happened with zero responsibility.
I was tired. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m usually so much more careful – and maybe if I had been that day, I’d have noticed him pulling up so close beside me.
It’s Thursday afternoon and I’m on my bike. Waiting at a stoplight, I’m five minutes from home and on total auto-pilot. The light changes and I start to pull away.
Suddenly – WHACK! I feel a sharp pain in the back of my left arm. A van is right next to me and his wing-mirror hit me. Just as I’m figuring this out, I feel a tug. The rubber from my left handlebar has caught on the side of the van and I’m being dragged forwards…
