"Oh shit! Our bikes!" I can see Dave's eyes grow large in the rear view mirror.I turn around just in time to see the fireworks of expensive metal hitting expensive highway in the post dusk gloom. My throat constricts as Dave slams on the brakes and wheels over to the side of the northbound lanes of I-95. I don't even notice the seat belt as it digs in, I am already frantic in my search for the unfamiliar belt clasp in a vehicle I don't know.
Three doors open simultaneously and we jump out. Without any consideration of where we are, we all begin running down the center lane of I-95 northbound to save our cherished mounts from further indignities. Just as I reach the custom built Diamondback I spent too much time and money on, lights appear at the top of the rise south of us.
I look over at Mike standing over his trashed scoot. He looks over at me and we both look south. In that moment I know we are dead meat. Two travelers buzzing along at 65mph crest the hill and bear down on us.
There is no time to move. There is no escape. One car owns the slow lane. One car owns the lane we are in.
Grabbing my bike, I turn to run just as the first car reacts to our presence in the center of I-95 northbound. Wheels squeal and the car careens into the fast lane. Over correcting, it slides sideways some and heads for the grass in the center strip. Meanwhile, the car in the slow lane hits the brakes and off the road into the ditch they head. Both cars missing us standing there holding our broken bicycles frozen like deer in the headlights.
It seems like an eternity as we turn and follow the two cars that miss us. Neither car stops once they regain control. Both find the highway and continue their journey. We gather our bikes and our wits and head directly to the shoulder. Not one of the three us speak until we get back to Dave's car.
My blinged out bike is mangled. Mike's Cannondale looks bad also. But there, still on the trunk rack swinging in the breeze, is Dave's bike. I make a mental note for future road trips. Try to finagle my bike on the rack first next time.
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Whenever I read a story about the stupid things people do that get them killed, I don't hold them in contempt anymore. Oh, I might for a moment or two. But those lucky moments on I-95 northbound just after dusk somewhere south of Portland always sneak in to humble any superiority I might have.
Later............
Image from The Frugal Yankee And yes, I know it is from the Movie "Christine".
8 comments:
If I remember right in the movie Christine the car was said to be a '57 Plymouth when it actually was a '58.
Sometimes one jumps into action without thinking.
How many times do we actually do things without really thinking what we've done and the dangers involved. You were lucky dudes. ;-)
Boots done, he stayed seated, staring at the brightly colored rug beneath his feet. His throat worked to swallow, and a fine sheen of sweat shimmered on his skin. Stay where you are. Nialdlyes red legs crisscrossed over his back. But she wasnt lashing out. Now she understood and finally saw the nightmare shed been as a student. Much of her time was spent with Radin, learning how to use her powers. She curled her fingers and found that core of sensation. Or even project emotion on him. Her hands fisted at her sides again. What more do you want me to say? She didnt want to know what Nialdlye had to say. What do you say, Eyrie? He kissed her before she could answer, lips pressing to hers. he growled into her ear. None of the others had been carved to look like a reedy young tree. Thats wonderful, she thought back to Radin. But I knew theyd eventually leave me. I fell in love with you when I was only a shadow in the darkness. I havent the time nor the inclination to come up with a spell just now.
Holy Smokes!
Glad that you made it safely out of that one! Close call indeed.
((Hugs))
Laura
It was maybe a bit risky but I don't think it was all that stupid, you was just trying to save the bikes.
I've seen monkeys do a lot more stupid things while risking their lives than that. On purpose, and sometimes they lose.
I'm still undecided as to if forgetting to install bolts on the motor helped save me when I lost the outboard motor last year that was likely too big for my little boat to start with.
It would have went pretty fast if it had worked right though.
Kulkiri - I can remember being disappointed by the movie when compared to the story.
David Barber - Remembering this close call has me digging for others I have survived. Excellent fodder for blog posts I think. BTW, I never considered the notion you might not want to be called a Brit. I just noticed you hail from Scotland. Sorry if it rubbed you the wrong way.
Anonymous - Nice little piece. Read it more than once. Thanks for sharing and stopping by.
sunshine - I am so wanting to be snarky here. You are such a lovely target. But I just can't do it. Consider yourself lucky I am feeling gracious even though you blasted Canadians put us in our place hockey wise.
BBC - Motors too big, boats too small is a fairly serious problem up here on all the lakes we have.
Dude, just when I think you are out of stories that leave me laughing and shaking my head in disbelief, you produce another.
I'll be heading down I-95 next week. If I see you in the middle of the highway trying to retrieve a bike, rest assured my lightning reflexes will save the day.
I hope you learned your lesson and have since given up bike riding and have purchased a gas guzzler, hippie.
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