Unlucky Day

The morning started well enough; low 60s and misty. But it turned out to be a morning of multiple mishaps. The streets were a little wet from a passing shower. Not a problem until collecting water hid the real depth of a pothole on Isabella. I was crossing over the sanitary canal and heard a car on my tail. In an effort to avoid getting rear ended I kept to the right and risked the uneven pavement. As soon as I conked through the pothole I heard my front tire hissing. I limped over to a bench near a tee off on the golf course and got busy repairing the pinch flat. About 10 minutes later I was back on the road.

Soon thereafter as I passed Evanston Hospital on Ridge Avenue, an approaching car turned left and cut me off. I swerved but managed to give the car a nice punitive rap on the trunk lid. I looked back and gave him or her a quick "What's your problem?!" type of gesture. When I turned forward again I saw I was heading into the curb. I managed a controlled crash into a young tree and did a header into some soft loamy mulch. I felt the visor of my helmet crinkle in the light impact. I was too pissed at the time to think how hilarious the whole event must have looked. I'm not sure if the driver saw my spill. I hope not; he'd probably crash too from laughing so hard.

A block after turning on Granville from Clark I heard a sharp crunch behind me. It looked like a car struck the rear of another in the intersection. Hells bells.

After cresting the hump at the intersection of Clark and Roosevelt, about 30 minutes later, a messenger on a Cannondale R400 zoomed by me. I said hi as he passed but got nothin'. I imagine bike messengers look down on us civillians. I caught up to him in traffic and at lights but figuring he didn't wish to be bothered, I kept my own counsel. He cruised on ahead but seemed to disappear from sight just short of the intersection of Halsted and Roosevelt. Then I saw him down in the middle of traffic. I slowed and asked if he was ok but he was occupied with getting his bike out of the way of approaching cars. By now the light was red and I saw he was fine. At the green we continued on and at the next red I broke the ice by remarking that such spills must be part of the job. He was a bit bubblier now and explained some woman slowed in the middle of the road and he wiped out in avoiding her. I suppose after zipping by me like big stuff his ego might have been a bit bruised. If so, I knew exactly how he felt.

Distance Traveled: 24.3 miles
Distance to date: 2697.4 miles
Price of gas: $3.43