Please Don’t Drive Right at Me

SUVLast fall, I was heading out to Boston’s western suburbs for a long, leisurely ride. It was one of those days where a warm sun collided with cool streaks of almost winter air. The first part of my ride took me through a dense urban area. Hyper-vigilance was mandatory in this vicinity due to the density of the cars.

Slowly, I made my way through the thick pile of stalled cars. Squeezing through the tight trail left by cars wedged too close to the curb, I eased my way to the top of the intersection. Being out front made me feel visible to cars facing all directions.

With visions of costly traffic tickets floating through my mind, I waited impatiently for the light to change. Cars were drifting toward my rear wheel, showering my back with oozing warmth from purring engines. Looking over my shoulder, I checked for flashing turn signals to see if anyone was waiting to make a right turn on red.

As was my custom, I inched up from the stop line to avoid preventing cars from turning. I had developed this habit, not from a sense of having less of a right to the road, but from a desire to generate good will between drivers and cyclists.

A driver saw me being courteous and smiled for a change. Acknowledging my act of cooperation, she waved to me while carefully steering around my bike. With a good deed under my belt, I felt that my ride would go well; it was almost a good omen.

When the light turned green, I clipped the usual foot into my pedal with one unconscious motion. Looking left, right and straight ahead, I tentatively crossed the intersection. Soon after, I down shifted in anticipation of the long, steep hill ahead. My legs began spinning faster just shy of the incline. Widening my grip on the top of my handlebars expanded my chest to make breathing easier as I worked my way up the hill.

Once at the top, I sucked in a large breath to fill my exhausted lungs. The bike began rolling faster with the descent. Picking up speed, I noticed a car speeding towards me. Experience told me to watch this vehicle because anyone driving in such a manner was less concerned with traffic laws than his own agenda.

Soon the driver and I were within staring range. Intently I watched him, staring him down with a death gaze acquired only through years of urban cycling. With accumulated speed, it appeared as if I would make it past him without an encounter. Unfortunately, I had drawn this conclusion too soon.

Before I knew it, he was starting a wild left turn, in front of me, onto a side street. Why couldn’t he wait until I passed? My hands tightened on the hoods as I distributed my weight evenly over the bike. I wanted to be ready to get out of his way.

Just before I could roll past, he hit the gas, accelerating right at me. My heart began to pound as I watched his hefty look-at-me-I’m-more-affluent-than-you SUV barreling towards me. Clearly, he believed that he was the King of the Road. I couldn’t move fast enough to get out of his way.

“Please don’t drive right at me,” I yelled to him. His front bumper was no more than two arm’s lengths away from me. “I’m waiting for you,” he shouted in a rabid frenzy, “Get the f*ck out of the way!”

Despite swerving to my right to give myself more time, he came within a hair’s breadth of hitting me. This was not the first time that a car had nearly mowed me down by driving right at me. I don’t know what it is with people behind the wheel. They never consider how their actions might affect others. It’s as if the insulation of the car makes them immune to the vulnerability of others.

If that driver had pressed the accelerator a little too hard or mistimed the turn, I would have been flattened like a pancake. The thought makes me shudder. The same thing happens with pedestrians at crosswalks – cars drive right at them. There must be a way to convince drivers to stop and wait for bicycles to pass before making turns. After all, yielding for oncoming traffic is the law. Until some formal approach to this common problem is devised and enacted, all one can do is to scream into the wind: “Please don’t drive right at me!”

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