Just the "Facts"

This is the view my son had on the day he was hit by a person driving a car while riding home from school. It's from google maps, but the sun weather was pretty great on the day of the crash too. We could pull up and measure distances to tell how far it is till you can start to see the cars cresting that hill. That spot would be inside a school zone, so 35mph. Where he was leaving the greenway through the park, it was 45. Another school zone is to the right, but he's not going that direction. He's headed for the bike way across the street. There's an access ramp on that spot and our house is over there.

On the day of the crash, a truck parked on the greenway exit. Maybe some kind of lawn maintenance crew, but the officer responding to the call didn't know what it was because it was moved before the police arrived.

My son says he put a foot down, waited for four cars to pass, and then crossed when he could barely see a car coming at the top of the hill to the left. He was in a big gear, so he was slow to start. The last thing he remembers before hitting the windshield was the sound of the car's horn.

A witness at the scene said the boy darted into the road. Based on that plus the truck that the officer didn't see, they didn't cite the driver. They couldn't ask my son what happened because he was writhing in pain on the pavement. He left in an ambulance.

The police officers didn't take any measurements or even try to estimate the driver's speed. It turns out that Raleigh Police Department only does that in the event of serious injury. My son suffered multiple breaks in his leg and shattered his shoulder. They reconstructed his injuries in surgery on Friday. He's been in inestimable pain and won't be able to return to school for the rest of this year. These were not serious enough injuries for the office to measure stopping distance or point of view.

I reached out to my community to implore local drivers to pay particular attention to pedestrian and bicycle traffic in this area, especially with the four elementary schools on the block. Even in that, some neighbors commented that it was my son's fault. He misjudged the traffic. To that, I wonder that the person driving the car, rather than take to another lane or stop, chose to honk.

People walking and people riding bikes need protection. People driving cars are given a responsibility to not hit other things, but this responsibility is failed over and over again. In an incident between a vehicle and a person not in a vehicle, the person is going to lose. In this case, my son nearly lost his life.

For all of the reasons, this crossing needs attention. Either it is a crossing, and it needs proper markings and indicators, OR it isn't a crossing and the access to the road on both sides needs to be removed. Please address this matter.

A little back story...

Those calls that you don't want to receive about your child are as bad as you think. Twenty three years ago, my mom called my dorm room and asked to talk to my roommate. Her face contorted from a look of confusion progressing into horror until I grabbed the phone from her to let her out of her misery. But then it was my turn:

There was a car accident... he didn't make it... he's gone.

All I could do was deny her words and melt into convulsing tears on the bed. My brother had been at a friend's house when they should have been at school. They took out the fancy Mercedes to find a dog. The driver of the car, another 16-year-old kid, lost control and wrapped the vehicle around a palm tree. It was a life-defining moment for our family.

When my son was born, it was as if a small and vital piece of my heart started beating outside of my chest. First he was crying, then walking and talking, eventually riding bikes and going to school. Each day, love for this small boy who bears such a striking resemblance to his uncle shaped my experience of that phone call. When my son was hit by a car, it was my turn. The night at the hospital, I needed my mom, and yet it couldn't be my mom. Not this time, not about this. 

It took a whole day before I mustered the courage to call her. 

Hi, got a sec? Can you step away and sit down? / Yea, what's going on? / He's ok... He's ok. / What happened? / Mom, it's Holden and he's ok. / What happened? / He's hurt, but he's going to be ok.  / Was it a car? / He's got a broken leg and shoulder. He's home./ You keep saying he's going to be ok, what happened? / I'm going to keep saying he's ok because he is going to be ok, and I need to keep saying it. / Ok.

He's going to be ok. He's injured, and he's going to be ok.

At the Hospital

Getting to the hospital, we surveyed what we might need inside and wished we hadn't just cleaned out the car. The pavement was hot in socks, and there was a sweaty musk in my bike shorts and gear. The phone call came right as the group ride back was starting on bike-to-work Monday. Cleats were tossed aside by the bike and all attention was set to getting to the hospital.

His dad arrived first and was with him in the imaging room getting a CT scan. Grandpa arrived next, hugging my other two children close and then saying a prayer while we waited. Finally, the doors opened and the ER nurse called our family back to the room.

My sweet baby boy writhed in agony. We all stared at him trying to decide who was in more shock, him or us. The only comfort I could provide was consent to treat. He swelled in pain and retreated under narcotic effect. The pain came in ripples and tidal waves.  He would pant or breath hold and we knew it was rough, but he was on top of it. Other times, he would lay back and disappear, floating just above himself, discovering savasana. 

Every move - ice chips, IV, pillow fluff - caused pain. A second scan for head and neck injury meant he had to keep the neck brace in place. This is really painful when your collarbone is shattered. Hours later, they splinted his leg, broken in three places, and sent us home.

Getting to the car was a 6-person effort. Every inch was a trick to see what was possibly mobile, since all of his injuries were to the one side. Eventually, we made it and he dozed off in the late night, never having eaten dinner or allowed to drink water. Getting to the house, he vomited all over his feet, the driveway, and me. 

He was broken apart, but alive. 

Discovery

When H decided to walk, he knew how and took careful precautions and went for the right incentives. He liked to know what was coming, and was a fan of patterns and routines. We would play on the riding toys in the driveway for hours. So many hours, that he was riding two wheels by the age of three. As a teenager, he's rides with a mountain bike team and gets himself to and from school. Same route everyday. He comes home through a park and then down the greenway a short distance. 

Sara called me. Who's Sara? I don't actually know, because we had never met before this call. I was getting on the bike headed for home to pick up my kids. Except she seem to be talking about my kids... 

[Incoming call] Hi yes, I'm Susan. My son? Which one? Who is this again? What did you say? Is he hurt? Can I talk to him? {frantically grabbing coworker to drive me to my child} What hospital are they taking him to? Can you take a picture of his bike so I can know how severe his injuries might be? Thank you Sara, I love you so much right now. I'm coming. Oh hi, yes, I'm his mom. Are you there? Can you hear me? No, he doesn't have any allergies. His name, diagnosis, current meds, yes. Tell him I love him. Thank you. I'll go to the hospital then. 

[text] It's important. Call me immediately.

[Outgoing call] What are you doing right now? Are you parked? There's been an accident, it's H. He was riding his bike home from school. They don't know the extent of his injuries, they're taking him to the hospital. Can you get there? I'm going to get R&T now and I'll meet you there. Where else would I take them? Once they hear he's in the hospital, they're going to want to get there. Yes, we'll figure out. I'll call your dad.

[Incoming call] Hey baby, are you ok? Yes, get in the ambulance with him. Hold his hand. {screams in the background that make me wince} It's ok, I'm coming as fast as I can. Do you want to wait there or go back to the school? {dropping phone sounds and then a new voice} Yes, I'm his mom. I'm coming there right now, about 10 minutes out. Yes, they're brothers, they're my sons. I'm coming as fast I can. 

[Incoming call] Hey sweet girl. Yes, I'm going to pick you up. Listen, something's happened. As soon as I get to the school, be ready. We have to move quickly.

[Outgoing call] Got a sec? I need a favor. Oh, you're driving. Can you pull over? Yea, I know it makes you nervous. Don't worry, I'll wait. Ok, Holden was in an accident. I'm on my way to the hospital, but I need to get R&T first. Can you meet their dad there? I understand you're upset. We are about to walk into a very tense situation and I need you to have a calm head. Yes, you can vent. You didn't hurt my feelings. Yes, meet me at the hospital and we'll figure it out. 

x

[at the scene] Hi, yes, I'm Susan. Can you give me one second and we can finish? {wrap my arms around my second son and feel the relief of a healthy, strong, breathing boy with a brave face} Ok, so where is the van now? Who is Sara? Were there others? Are there skid marks? How fast was she going? Why wouldn't she have stopped then? {wrestling with the bike rack} Here, it goes like this. Oh you have this rack too? Yea we love it. So he usually comes down this greenway path, and then crosses to the curb relief on the other side.  What van was it? Did she brake at all before she hit my son? So you didn't cite her? I need to get to the hospital, can I have the information on the report? Thank you.

#newbikeday happened here today! His first ride was #barefoot because he’s #myson #singlespeed #babyboy #rideon #bikelove #tourdefat

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Riding over here in a skirt and sandals and dropped my chain over the top of the big cog in the back. I really need an adjustment/new cables. #bikelove #commuter #chaingrease #biketowork #workinggirl #tourdefat #takecareofyourcrap

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NICA, NCICL, MTB

I heart NICA so much.

Oh the Facebook of it All

An interaction on Facebook has me all worked up this morning. A friend made a complaint, and friends chimed in with shared frustration. The drivers who weren't actually experiencing the interaction were jumping to anger over the reality that bicycles are occupying space on the road. Here's what I'm thinking. I want to resurrect the human status of cyclists by sharing my experience, and also recall the legality of the choice. 

{Did I mention I ride bikes? You guys know this because you're here and probably got here because you know me personally or you ride bikes. Not everyone agrees with my choices, but we can at least civilly disagree.}

When a driver and I disagree about a lane use issue. The exchange is typically punctuated by honking. Sure, that's predictable, but I invite you to an experiment. Try this. Set your 3 year old in the driver seat of your car, obviously not running or in any way powered on. Just set the child in front of the steering wheel's horn button. Now, go stand in front of the car facing the same direction of the vehicle with it behind you. Wait, and then see what happens. 

Often in-motion lane use arguments are much more brutal: A bus driver passes and tips my helmet with the mirror of the bus, nearly spilling me into a rash of poison ivy in the culvert of the road. The mini van mama screams obscenities through an open window while honking and cutting into the lane in front of me to turn right. A one-ton truck driver discards the remnants of a fast food drink, including cup, and then accelerates heavily to leave me in a puff of exhaust. All of these examples have happened to me this year. Everyday I ride my bike, I have an encounter like this.

Please pause and think about the last time you were walking and somebody threw a drink cup at you, screamed obscenities, or just straight up hit you. What was that like for you?

It happens to me every single day that I ride my bike. My humanity wants me to believe this type of interaction isn't normal and doesn't characterize the morality of the individual. I try to lift the interaction out of the well by responding with a super-big smile and wave, "Have a good day!"

(Would you shoot a person who is smiling and waving? It's my only defense on my 20-lb bicycle against a 3,500lb vehicle.)

This is a real fear. Regularly, cyclists are physically assaulted. A driver has pulled a gun on me while riding my bike. I happened to have been pregnant at the time.

People who ride bikes are people. In my case, I'm a mom of three kids. I manage a team of engineers for a major corporation. I also teach yoga for peace, and math to little kids. I pay taxes on my car, my home, and my income. 

When I ride my bike, I am not trying to take anything from you. I'm trying to get to work. When I ride in a peloton, I am not trying to prevent you from using the road. I'm getting a workout. Any delay you experience will likely be short, and I appreciate you waiting until it is safe to pass. 

I’m out here #biking my #commute waiting on #cornsyrup I’m thinking this is #messedup because that train car holds 19,750 gallons of corn syrup and there were 5 or 6 tanks. #fatamerica #getoffyourass #tourdefat

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#jjgrey in my earbuds singing #glorygloryhalelluia #sunisshiningdown and I’m right there in that moment on my #morningcommute #coffee #raleigh #boylanbridge #bikemonth #happinessis #tourdefat @surlybikes

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Picked up all the kids from the car line yesterday. There were a variety of reasons including 42 degree and rainy weather. My boys were so upset with me. Totally unphased by weather, they just want to ride. #mamasboys #tourdefat #bikelife #bikechurch #freerangekids #soproud #inallkindsofweather

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One last photo of the #bronto #nightmarebeforechristmas #mural before it has to come down #bikelean #jolene #tourdefat

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Why yes, that is a vacuum cleaner in my pannier.

Yesterday my friend said to me, "Are you ok then? I worry about you." 

It dawned on me that I've created this victim persona of myself with her. That identity does not give me comfort. I never dreamed my ex-husband would do the things he has done, but that is not me. I am not living the prescribed life that my family or former friends would like for me, but I am me. I am not a victim. I am not what has happened to me. 

Alertness set in on me early this morning, my whole body filled with inspiration. Yesterday's sickness and fever linger, and it is 26 degrees. I have to get in to the office to remove a mural I painted a few weeks back. My thoughts grappled with each other: drive or bike this morning? 

I remembered a movie, 180 deg South. I lusted after the responsibility-free life of these climbers. These guys did everything to climb, surf, and sail. They gave up the things I define as success on a hunt for a thrill. Hey self: slow down there, Judgy McJudgerstein. They aren't less than human any more than you are or anybody is. Hell, they have a movie. This is their path. What's yours?

"If you set out on a journey to affect some kind of physical to spiritual gate and you compromise the process along the way, and you’re an asshole when you start then you’ll be an asshole when you finish” ~180 deg South

This is how I find myself packing a vacuum cleaner into pannier bags and donning the ski gear intended for yesterday's non-trip to Wintergreen mountain. It isn't because a sickness happened to me, but because the backside of pain is experience. Experience is life, and life is beautiful.

In no particular order I present to you, dear Universe, my goals:

• Ride the divide from Banff to Fort Collins
• Lose sight of shore for long enough that it becomes a new normal
• Build a product and company that serves the greater good
• Raise up some childrens (ya'll)
• Keeping working a handstand until it breaks my bones