I left work about 5:30pm on Friday, January 3rd, 1997. There had been a little snow during the day, most of it melted from the asphalt. And it was just after evening twilight so dark enough for headlights. I had my "Nice Light" on the handle bars, my Vistalight blinking in back, the typical assortment of CPSC reflectors all round, and reflective bands on my ankles and wrist. I was northbound on 1600 East Street, a wide 2-lane residential collector street with many "T" intersections into residential neighborhoods on either side.

Approaching the "T" intersection with 1220 North Street on the east side, I saw a car approaching at unusual speed from the right. I guessed from the speed that it might not yield as required and decided to turn right into that street. Because of the house on the corner, none of this was apparent until I was within about 50-60 feet of the intersection.

I started to turn right, but the motorist turned left, cutting off the corner. I saw grillework and tried to pull the corner a little tighter. I managed to miss a "head-on" but the next thing I knew I was on my back on the asphalt. My front wheel apparently went into the car's front wheelwell, the bike spun around and I body slammed the driver's door, then fell to the pavement as the car pulled my bike out from under me.

This is the view that the driver would have had to her left as she approached the intersection. It was dark; there was no other traffic; the site was backlighted by the street light in the background; and I had my headlight.

Except for the "tacoed" front wheel my old winter beater bike doesn't look too bad. But it had two cracks in the frame, and the base of the handlebar stem, and assorted "road rash".

The motorist stopped, rolled down her window and said "Are you all right?" I said "No" and laid there. I felt a little vulnerable and rolled over once toward the curb, so I knew that my extremities were all still attached and working. I was just "sore". Other folks showed up to help. A doctor was nearby and someone brought a blanket. I waited for the police and ambulance. My left leg didn't want to move or bend or carry any weight, but I just had a deep bruise on the thigh. I could taste blood, but it was just a little cut on my lip (4 stitches) and my hands and wrists were pretty sore. Surprisingly, there was no damage to any of my clothing: shoes, pants, raincoat, gloves were all OK. My helmet was cracked in back, but it had been a tight fit anyhow.

Somebody called "911" so I took an ambulance ride to the hospital. I was still a little worried about internal injuries from my body slam. The ER nurse called my wife and she asked "Can't he walk home?" but she did come to get me. Meanwhile, the responding officer took my statement and let me know that he even gave the driver a ticket for "no proof of insurance". I presumed that was in addition to the obvious "failure to yield." I was wrong, but that's getting ahead of my story. The officer delivered my bike to the hospital and mentioned that all my lights were still operating and I had all the "required reflectors." I pointed out that reflectors were irrelevant to this incident since I was never really in front of the headlights.

After stitches, shots, ice packs, and drug prescriptions I was sent home to be stiff and sore. I spent the weekend trying to avoid moving but by Monday, I walked to the bus stop and went to work. A few days later I went to the police station to pick up a copy of the accident report. I was surprised to notice that no citation was issued for "failure to yield" even though the report described it so. The report indicated that the motorist claimed to be going 3 mph at impact. I think the officer left off a zero.

Anyhow, I began by contacting the motorist's insurance agent and writing a letter to the responding officer. I described my disappointment that the motorist didn't get cited for failure to yield. A couple of days later I received a call from the officer. He told me that the lack of citation would not affect my insurance claim and that he had "discretion" in issuing citations. He mentioned that some cities in the area routinely did not issue citations for traffic accidents. I said I'd have to think about that and decide what to do next. I was a little disappointed that a paperwork offense (no proof of insurance) seemed more serious to him than property damage and personal injury.

So I thought, and researched, and finally wrote a letter to the Logan Chief of Police. I got a response thanking me for my letter, assuring me that there were limits to an officer's "discretion" when damage and injury occured and reporting that a citation had been issued to the motorist 6 weeks after the collision. I'll bet she was surprised.

I decided that she was probably now a very safe motorist to bicycle around. But I went to the municipal court just to be sure that the citation was paid and there hadn't been some sort of dismissal by a judge who was more sympathetic to a cheerleader than to a middle aged cyclist. According to the computer records, the citation had been paid, but there were at least half a dozen other entries for that 18 year-old driver so I'm not quite so confident that she's a safe fellow traveller on the local roads.

It took a little bit of discussion, but the insurance company bought me a new bike as well as paying the ambulance and ER bills. They didn't want to provide a new bike in place of an old one, but I insisted that there was no used-bike market locally for an all-weather commuter bike. I could get last year's Trek 720 for half what the university students want for their rock shocked mt bikes when they're out of pizza money.

The only thing left of my insurance claim is the $100,000 for pain and suffering, or an apology from the so-far-silent motorist. I haven't gotten either yet but there's still time.

By the way, the car was actually owned and insured by the cheerleading driver's father's business. If you want to know who in Logan to buy carpet from, so they can pay the $100,000 just ask me.