I shall return....

I am fortunate to be posting today. Yesterday, I suffered an abominable collision with a taxi as I returned from a Cambridge Union Debate over austerity cuts. Neither my sisters who tried to destroy my bike with poor maintenance and corrosion nor the cab driver, armed with a motor vehicle, could destroy my Schwinn Expedition. As the cab pulled out from a string of cabs (out of order), the driver did not see me. As he veered into the opposing bike lane, we struck. I tumbled onto the curb, protected only by my helmet and a thin layer of padding in the shoulder of my best suit. My front wheel was jammed between the curb and the cab. It did not survive. My coat was torn and is irreparable, but my helmet is a survivor. My insulation from poor drivers is crushed, but I will ride again (as soon as the bike store realigns my tire). As I walked home, dressed in my suit, carrying my portfolio in one hand, and the remains of the "red raider" in the opposite hand, I could not help but think that fortune favors the bold. I am the cyclist who rides in either snow, or rain, or heat, or gloom of night, or with the winds of change, or a nation challenged, and will not be stayed from the swift completion of any ride. Even if, I have to walk home carrying my bicycle. After this experience, I feel quite at home with an English culture committed to bicycles, flat tires, and the occassional wreck.