re: #283 Barefoot Grin

I could hang with Cat 2 riders on local rides in Bloomington, IN, but I never raced and it wasn’t DFL. It was, “I’ve got a hole in my shin and lost an eyebrow (it’s since grown back) from a car driving through me on a ride, and a separated shoulder from an early morning ride when I hit something in the road and went down like a sack of potatoes (a passing construction worker, saying nothing, picked me up, threw my bike in his bed, and drove me to the emergency room—I wrote a letter to the newspaper but never learned who the hero was). I figure with luck like that, I would get way more fucked up in racing.

I had a bike crash when a car threw open the driver’s door just as I was passing. One of the people who saw it stopped, got everyone’s insurance info, threw my bike into their van and drove me to the ER and then stuck around next to my bed until things looked OK. I did know their name and address, but it was just to pick up the remains of my bike a few days later. They were rich and I was poor so there wasn’t much I could offer them as a thank you.

About three years later I was answering the phones at the office, and someone called for a boss who was out. I took their info and it turned out to be the guy who took me to the hospital, so we got to catch up with each other for a bit and I thanked him again. A really super nice guy.

The person who threw open their car door griped at me the next day while I was back looking for my keys. She was mad that I’d screwed up the alignment of her door.