The plan for the day was to get in another long ride which would make three days in a row. Mentally, psychologically, physiologically my body has been in on-the-road-travel mode as I was supposed to head out yesterday for Shreveport. I had to answer the calling or there would have been severe withdrawal repercussions. In addition, tomorrow is a travel day, as in flight travel, and there will be very little bike riding.
When I get ready to head out for a long bike trip, people always wish me to be safe, and they are wishes I always appreciate. For some reason, going for a trip seems to conjure up more dangers, perhaps because there is more unknown. It is true that on long journeys one tends to end up on highways that one normally wouldn't choose to travel.
Of course there are plenty of dangers right here at home as drivers can be just as careless or malicious as they could be 100 or 200 miles from here. Today was such a case and I guess I'm still a bit rattled from the incident.
I was traveling south on Hwy 71, about a mile past Greenland. It's about 1:30 PM, light traffic and, for those not familiar with the highway, it's four lanes with a moderate shoulder. The cars were coming sporadically enough that I felt comfortable riding in the right lane. I'm on a straight section of road and riding just inside the white line dividing the lane and the shoulder. A car is approaching from behind. I'm keeping my eye on the vehicle in my mirror and I see that instead of moving over into the left lane, the car is actually drifting closer to the white shoulder line. I keep waiting for the driver to correct himself and veer back into the right lane. Instead, the car has now crossed the white line and is moving further into the shoulder. My thoughts go to the driver that was caught recently who was intentionally trying to hit bicyclists. I have played out this scenario in my head many times and almost every time a car approaches I quickly take in what lies to my right: is it grass, a downhill slope, brush, a curb that I would have to hop over? I don't remember doing that today but I must have assessed that the car was not actually trying to hit me but come as close as it could as I didn't bail but I moved as far over onto the shoulder as I could. He passed within inches.
Then, another drill I have practiced over and over came into play: my arm shot out toward the car acting as a locator or laser pointer and with a moment of clarity that surprised me even while it was happening, I read the car's license plate out loud and repeated it over and over as I stopped the bike and call 911; the license plate numbers were so clear it was if I had momentarily developed telephoto vision. Make no mistake about it, I was not calm and collected. When I spoke on the phone my voice was shaking. I let the dispatcher know where I was, what just happened (thinking that the act was intentional) and quickly recited the plate number before I forgot it. She transferred me to the state police.
During this time, I saw the car slowing down, pull into a road and turning around. I wasn't sure what to make of it. If he saw me getting out the phone he may be coming back to be threatening. But by the time I was connected with the state police, the driver had slowly brought his car to a stop in the grass nearby and I could tell by his demeanor as he walked out of the car that this was not an intentional act. I told the officer everything was okay.
It turned out to be a young man who had just graduated high school last year. He was very apologetic and kept repeating over and over how sorry he was. "That could have ended very badly," he said. "Yes, it most certainly could have." He had been adjusting his radio. I talked with him a few moments and he promised he would never try to adjust something again while driving. I imagine he probably won't as I believe he realized just how close he came to killing someone.
I continued on, still feeling rattled and it took another 15 miles before I didn't feel so unsettled. One thing I have no doubt about what-so-ever; if I didn't have that mirror, I would either be in the hospital in serious condition...or dead...as he was in a direct path with me when he crossed over into the shoulder.
I rode almost to Winslow before turning around. An odd thing, the wind was from the NNE and heading back is basically north. But something magical seemed to happen as I rode; instead of feeling wind resistance, it was as the rush of air passed invisibly through me and pushed me forward as if I had a tailwind. It turned out to be an exhilarating ride back.
Today's Ride: 3hrs 17mins. 41.35 miles. 62 degrees. Miles YTD: 6,729.05
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