Dooring

I knew this was going to happen eventually.  Super biker guy (in work clothing) on his Orbea with a fi'zi'k (or whatever) saddle and clip-in shoes passed me going down Massachusetts this morning.  Just outside of Dupont, he was speeding along next to the stopped cars, when a cab door opened in his path.  He saw it in enough time to start to break, but he still hit the door and went down pretty hard on the sidewalk.

Ouch.  Because I was just a few feet behind him, I stopped to make sure he was OK.  Although he seemed totally fine, I offered to call an ambulance because I guess that's what you're supposed to do in these situations...he said, "Nah, it wasn't that serious," while he put his chain back on. Meanwhile, the gorgeous blond who got out of the cab clearly felt horrible and was apologizing her face off.  There wasn't much I could do besides awkwardly stand there, and I figured it was between them, so I left.

And that is my very anti-climactic commuting tale for the day.  This guy must have had balls of iron, because he didn't seem shaken up at all.  Then again, I guess dooring hurts a lot less when the person who does it to you is tall, beautiful, nice, and extremely apologetic.

I have been doored twice.  Once, it was in roughly the same spot as this guy.  The French girl who had opened the door felt awful, someone in a Georgetown hat stopped and called an ambulance, and someone else rushed out of a nearby embassy and offered me Tang, then invited me inside (to this day, I am annoyed at the person who suggested that I not move).  I thought I was OK, but they stuck me in the ambulance anyway because I was being an idiot and not wearing a helmet. The paramedics spent a lot of time arguing with each other over what to do with me, so I'll assume my condition wasn't that dire.  

All I got out of that incident was a tacoed wheel and a citation from the police officer for passing on the right.  After consulting WABA and some local bike laws, I contested the ticket and won.  Small victories.

The second time, I was delivering documents to Copy General and got doored by a van on 12th and Pennsylvania.  I got knocked into the street and an SUV tire narrowly missed my head (fortunately, I was wearing a helmet).  That time, the door-er was a male utility worker.  Of all things I could have been freaked out about, I chose to be upset fact that my favorite pants got ripped, and he offered to buy me new ones at the Macy's across the street (I declined the offer).  To make matters even more humiliating, it was on one of my former company's brand new rental bicycles, and I eventually had to roll it back to the shop in shame.  Then my boss made fun of me and made me cry, but that's a whole different story.

Anyway.  I now have my brakes tightened to within an inch of their lives, and I ride VERY cautiously next to cars, whether they are parked or stopped at a light.  When there's a lane divider next to parked cars, I ride on the left side of it.  It pisses some drivers off, but they go around you eventually.  Because as observant as you'd like people to be sometimes, they often aren't, and accidents just happen.