The weekend after Nixon was reelected, i decided it would be a good idea to ride out to DeKalb to console a friend at Northern. At about 3:30 that Saturday AM, i left from Harlem/Touhy aboard my trusty LaPierre, in my bluejeans and sweatshirt with an armband light, a nylon windbreaker in my seatpack, and a Tribune roadmap. As i recall, it was a mild November up till then, although it was drizzling a bit after some thunderstorms that previous evening.

Somewhere around Schaumburg, the rain really kicked in. The temp slid into the upper 40s. The jacket was useless. The roads -many were still gravel then - were flooded out here and there. By dawn, somewhere outside of South Elgin i believe, hypothermia began to set in.

Now here i was on the roadside in Bum F*** Kane county. There was NOTHING but cornfields out there at the time, and i was shivering uncontrolably. i had just enough presence of mind to stick my thumb out and some guardian angel crammed me and my bike into his VW beatle. He must've thought i was a junkie the way i was shivering. He took me all the way to my friend's dorm (West Neptune Hall.) It took another 3-4 hours to stop shivering.

Could've died out there that day...

Scarier than any bike/car encouter i've had before or since.

Your horror story?

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All my scary experiences involve motorcycles...which is why I now ride bicycles.

Experience #1: Doing a fast ride on canyon roads outside of San Diego. I'm leaned way over in a decreasing radius left-hand corner and a wasp or hornet or something flies into my jacket and starts stinging the hell out of my neck. I'm totally committed to the turn and if I make any change in my line or touch the brake, I'll crash into a rock wall. So I have to sit there letting it sting me over and over again until I can get through the turn and pull over.

Experience #2: On a group ride with a bunch of motorcycle journalists as part of the US press launch for the Honda Gold Wing 1800 (those 850lb, 6-cyclinder full dress touring bikes with CD players and cruise control, etc.).

We're on a busy, twisty, hilly 2-lane road, stuck behind a gravel truck. So one by one people are passing the gravel truck. It's my turn to pass and a tiny gap opens in the oncoming lane...so I click down two gears, peg the throttle and try to squeeze past the truck. Gold Wings have CB radios so we're all talking to each other in our helmets. I'm halfway past the truck and I hear "watch out for that bump." Next thing I know I'm airborn. I suck at jumping bicycles, let alone motorcycles. Fortunately, I was at full throttle, which causes the back end of the motorcycle to stay down, allowing me to land smoothly. Had I seen the bump coming, I probably would have closed the throttle and hit the brake or something stupid, which would cause the back end to come up, essentially making the motorcycle want to do a somersault. I would have probably wound up tumbling down the road end over end, careening toward the oncoming cars.
working as a courier, I was carrying a heavy rush delivery, a bunch of law books from an office in the Prudential tower up at the top of the hill on Randolph, it was heavy as shit, they were all hardcover books and the corners of them were jammed into my back. so I hop on my bike and I'm barreling down Randolph towards Michigan coming down the huge hill between cars, riding brakeless or course, and I drop my chain. I'm just flying at this point and with all that weight on me, the light turns red, of course, and the Michigan traffic starts coming and there's no way I'm gonna stop. I tried dragging my toes but it was useless, and I just went straight into the traffic, just cut through trying to make a lane, veering one way and then the other, getting honked at and screamed at and my chain just dragging the street--I was fucking terrified, I was sure I'd get hit, I just hoped I'd roll up the hood of the car and not get knocked to the ground and run over, but somehow I made it through and came out the other side of Michigan in one piece and coasted to a stop half way to Wabash. Some kid drinking a Slurpee looks at me and he just says, "dude, what the fuck!" I didn't know what to do. I just started laughing. Like really laughing out loud. He must have thought I was insane. Then I put my chain back on and made the drop. That was around the time that I decided maybe I had a shitty job and I should think about doing something else.
By bill for 16 hrs. in the hospital after a crash was $32,000. So yeah, about right: $2,000/hr.

Mike Bullis said:
h3 said:

Ever see the Sixth Sense Mike? That movie got under my skin . . .I found my self wondering after near-misses whether they were really misses. Your story is pretty amazing.
$31,000 seems like a lot to me for one day in the hospital. I had a bad one in '01 that involved 3 hospitals and neck surgery, and the total was around 60k.


I went back and checked my numbers and, yes, I erred in the cost. 31K was the entire loss(bike, camping gear, time off work, lost vacation, etc.). The eight hours at the ER was 18k. Still, a princely sum because an idiot wasn't paying attention.

one of my scariest moments happened 3 weeks ago.  A truck cut me off on Clark on the street just north of Bryn Mawr and tried to turn right right in front of me.  I somehow saw it last minute and jumped out of the way.   I was freaked out, already in a bad mood from going to the wrong nail salon  so I had missed an appointment and this just made it worse. 

Ended up having to cancel my evening plans to go home and decompress.  

I pulled out of an alleyway on the northside along the redline and turned to see a bus coming straight at me on the wrong side of the pillar.  I turned quick and missed it by maybe a foot.  Almost got in a head on collision with a bus.  Pretty scary.  If I would have gotten hit and lived, I would be a millionaire.

That would be olive st. Was the truck heading east, coming from Ashland? If so, what you've described has happened to me as I've been riding north on Clark. For some reason, cars either roll that stop sign or do stupid shit to people/cars/bikes coming through on Clark. It's some weird type of phenomenom.
 
Julie Hochstadter said:

one of my scariest moments happened 3 weeks ago.  A truck cut me off on Clark on the street just north of Bryn Mawr and tried to turn right right in front of me.  I somehow saw it last minute and jumped out of the way.   I was freaked out, already in a bad mood from going to the wrong nail salon  so I had missed an appointment and this just made it worse. 

Ended up having to cancel my evening plans to go home and decompress.  

we were both facing south and the car turned right to get to ashland. 

Jim S said:

That would be olive st. Was the truck heading east, coming from Ashland? If so, what you've described has happened to me as I've been riding north on Clark. For some reason, cars either roll that stop sign or do stupid shit to people/cars/bikes coming through on Clark. It's some weird type of phenomenom.
 
Julie Hochstadter said:

one of my scariest moments happened 3 weeks ago.  A truck cut me off on Clark on the street just north of Bryn Mawr and tried to turn right right in front of me.  I somehow saw it last minute and jumped out of the way.   I was freaked out, already in a bad mood from going to the wrong nail salon  so I had missed an appointment and this just made it worse. 

Ended up having to cancel my evening plans to go home and decompress.  

Was riding into work from Humboldt Park to the loop, circa 2005 or 2006. I was heading SE on Milwaukee, and there was a full lane of stopped traffic on my left.  As I approached 6 corners, the light turned green about 100 feet ahead of me, so I stood up an started to sprint, to build some momentum.  At the time I was rocking a very fast, but still pretty heavy Kona with toe cages, which I was in.  About 25 feet from the intersection, right in front of Estelle's, a woman opens her car door all the way into the lane.  I had about a second to react.  I had no time to brake, and didn't want to skid or turn sideways at all, so I loosened up, and closed my eyes.  From what I was able to tell, I hit the door, and flipped right over it, and my bike came with me since I was in the toe cages.  It literally tomahawked over my head and hit the car that was parked in front of her.  I still don't understand how my feet got out of the clips as I went over the door, but that's what happened. I landed on my head, and cracked my helmet nearly in two. I skidded onto my shoulder, and took a fair bit of skin off, and then unrolled and slapped flat on my back onto the asphalt.  I remember it was the first nice day in May; the sun was out, and I was laying there with my eyes closed thinking: "I wonder what I broke... that was good for a collarbone at least."  I slowly sat up, and began to pat myself down all over.  I had a nasty piece of road rash on my shoulder, and a huge blood blister on the pinky of my right hand... but that was about it.  The little Puerto Rican lady who doored me was hysterical at this point, and couldn't stop apologizing, while tears streamed down her face... I was trying to console her a bit, just telling her she needed to check her mirrors before opening her door.  I slowly stood up and surveyed the damage: 1 severely taco'd wheel.  But that was about it.  I started to feel loopy about the fact that I wasn't completed f-ed up, when a kid who had been on a bike behind me rolled up, and said "ARE YOU OK?" with a look of disbelief on his face.  I said: "Yeah, just banged up, and pissed that I'm late for work".  I then loaded up my jacked up bike onto the #56, and rolled downtown to the Hancock.  I locked my bike up, and then went into my office, where my coworkers looked at me in horror.  "Maybe you should go to the hospital" was a common refrain.  "But I'm just banged up" I said.  Finally, I called my then-girlfriend, who informed me that if I didn't go to the hospital by 2 PM, she was no longer my girlfriend.  I went to the ER, and they told me: "Yeah, you're pretty banged up".  The GF picked me up from work in her car, and I went home and slept a lot. My shoulder didn't work right for a few days, and my knees have sustained lasting damage from that and a few other wrecks, but all in all, lucky as hell. 

May 8, 2012 - Lady decided she needed the Kinzie bike lane more than me, bounced off of her car and then again off of the pavement with my forehead.  Two doctors told me the helmet probably saved my life.  Thankfully, I have decent insurance because she took off.  Enjoy the dent in your car!

I frequently cross the intersection of Central Park and Cortland; it's a 4-way stop that gets little respect from drivers, cyclists, or pedestrians.  On my way to last month's Full Moon Fiasco, lights ablaze on both ends of my bike, I was riding east on Cortland towards it; in this spot Cortland is pretty tight with parking on both sides and just barely enough room for 2 cars to pass one another (usually folks don't even try and just wait for a clear shot) .  As I approached the stop sign a car driving South on Central Park wholly ignored the stop and took a WIIIIIIDE right onto Cortland at full speed and its front bumper came within inches of my front wheel. Perhaps I've been lucky, but when I've had similar close calls in the past, I've almost always seen some sign that the driver realizes what almost happened.  Sometimes their reaction might have been radically inappropriate i.e. obscene gesture or yelling, but a reaction at least indicates that at some point they saw me.

No such luck this time---not even a tap of the brakes---right after the near miss they sped off into the night, leaving me stopped on the side of the road with that all-over chill that usually accompanies a really close call.  I've certainly dealt with some bad drivers in the past and even suffered a hit-and-run while riding, but I've definitely never been more rattled.  Absolutely no idea if the driver was drunk, just careless, or even possibly trying to swipe me, and that's definitely what made it the scariest for me.  I really believe that most drivers' bad behavior towards cyclists is unintentional and sometimes even borne of trying to be too careful around them, but that definitely wasn't the case here.

About 60 - 90 seconds later two unmarked gang unit cars flew down Central Park with lights and sirens on and I wondered---perhaps even hoped---if there was a relation to the car that almost tagged me.

Came close to bailing on the FMF, but eventually decided to press on.  It was a great ride with great folks and washed away a lot of the residual bummer-dom from the close call.

I've had a couple of bad accidents, but the scariest didn't actually leave any physical marks.  I was riding home from where I work in Oak Park and it was a particularly nasty evening in January complete with freezing rain.  I was riding eastbound on Division at about 5200W and someone that I hadn't even noticed stepped off the curb very quickly and punched me in the face.  Luckily, I kept my seat, but it was the first time I had had a problem on my bike where the other party was actually intending to hurt me.  Normally it's just people who aren't paying attention.  After talking to the people at my LBS, I have adjusted my route since, but the "what ifs" in this situation still scare me to think about.

I continued to ghost feel the impact from my crash in 2010 for months as I was drifting off to sleep. I was hit by an SUV and just got a broken ankle. The driver had been at a complete stop, so was only going 10-15 MPH when she hit me.

But that ghost impact that wakes you up, hated it.

Scariest thing other than my crash would have been a night trying to get through the intersection of Halsted, Clark and Barry by the Domino's. The south bound, left turning cars from Halsted to Clark nearly pinned me between cars trying to race the light. I yelled and pedaled fast, somehow got through safe. That was before my crash - now if I realize I'll be in the intersection at yellow, I stop and wait for a green.



mike w. said:

Ah, yes... that cold feeling of memory that hits just before you go to sleep at night!

Two years later i sometimes still flash back on the sight of the world going sideways and the sharp CRACK and SLAP of the side of my head hitting the concrete. Another helmet trashed. 13 stitches but no concussion, just the occasional nightmare.


jillnerkowski said:
my scariest moments on bicycle all came as an afterthought.
long after my accidents, I suddenly realized that I couldn't have dies if I didn't jump onto the truck grill, I couldn't have died if I didn't do an exactly straight and complete 360 with my bike, I could've died if I had moved two inches more into the traffic and fallen under the van instead of on the road after it passed while I skimmed along the side of it, I could've died if I hadn't worn a helmet and remembered to roll my head under when I 180d over my handlebars.

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