I always wear a helmet, always. When I was in high school, helmets didn’t become popular but they became more widely used. Around that time, my dad told us that we had to wear them. Instead, I stopped biking. When I started up again in NYC, I did it with head gear.
While I was home last weekend I approached my father on his view of not wearing a helmet all of the time. I don’t need his permission (I’m sure I do plenty of things he wouldn’t approve of) and even with permission it doesn’t make it safer but at least I would feel less guilty. When I would bike to work on 95 degree days with a breeze on my arms but terrible sweaty head I had this guilt in mind.
Anyway, I explained to him how it was much safer to bike in Berlin and people watch out for bikes and there are wide paths away from the street and I don’t go very fast. He responded with a story of someone he knew out for a casual ride with the fam was paralyzed while pulling into his own driveway.
It’s been raining this week. Tuesday it was like The Wizard of Oz and I would pedal so hard but I didn’t get anywhere then a tailwind would come and push me through the traffic light. Today, not so windy but cold and raining. Problem was, if I didn’t bike I have to leave work 25 minutes earlier to get to school and still brave the same elements in the long walk. I choose bike. Next problem was, while packing into the storm cellar on Monday I left my helmet outside. Wet helmet + bangs + short hair? You do the math. So I brought it with but didn’t wear it (because in a car accident you always remember to buckle your seatbelt before getting hit) and pedaled out the door carefully.
The whole ride I was more cautious than ever. Letting others go instead of rushing ahead, not cutting through lights when no cars were around, etc. On the bridge where I cross the Spree the narrow bike path is on the street and is the closest I get to vehicles. There is also a sidewalk so I decided to take that instead. As I was coming off of the bike path and onto the sidewalk, I caught the curb and went down. I watched my hands catch the ground in the minutes it took me to fall and thought “If I get hurt how will I explain this to Dad” and “I hope my sandwich doesn’t get smushed” and “thank god this didn’t happen on the other end of the bridge that smells like a bathroom because most people use it as one”. I hit the ground with an oof.
I picked myself and bike up off the bike lane and assessed the damage. My basket was bent. Somehow my watch had fallen off ?? My jeans were dirty and my knees were bruised. No blood, no wrist sprain (which I deserved for catching myself the way I did). Sandwich destroyed. I thought about walking my bike the rest of the way but I was almost to the office. Then I thought that with the irony that’s already taken place this morning, I would be sure to get in another accident if I kept biking. But I’m not so smart so I hopped on for the home stretch.
I was learning life lessons all over the place… listen to my father, wear a helmet, put sandwich in protective plastic case, don't keep banana in pocket (because I sometimes). I can’t wait for sweaty head this summer because that’s what I’m going to have.
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