errantember (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
errantember) wrote2009-03-25 07:06 pm
errantember) wrote2009-03-25 07:06 pm
Entry tags:
Still Vibrating
I decided to head out on the scooter today to do my Farmer's Market/Wheatsville run and to work on my resume and read The Web That Has No Weaver : Understanding Chinese Medicine
as part of my latest head trip. I saw there was a chance of isolated thunderstorms later in the evening, but I figured I'd be home by then. Because the scooter is a) electric and b) is missing 50% of its main body panel, I generally don't drive it when I think it will rain. Not to mention the fact that it's dangerous and uncomfortable and I was wearing sandals.
I was headed north on Lamar when some idiot in a huge black pickup pulled a crazy stunt where he pulled out into the oncoming lane and *stopped* while waiting for a spot to open up in his lane. It had started sprinkling earlier, and I'd already had the thought that it was a very dangerous time to ride because it hadn't rained hard in a long time. All those fucking SXSW (GRR!) people had been hosing the streets with oil from their low-end, poorly-maintained shitboxes and the road was likely to be slick. When I hit the brakes, the scooter tried to lay over. It got to about 45 degrees before I caught it with my *sandaled* feet in Horse Stance and narrowly stopped it from smearing me over the pavement.
I did a skittering slide forward, bouncing on my sandals, into the space the truck thankfully no longer occupied.
It's a good thing I don't carry a gun.
I realized, very clearly at that moment, that now would be a *good* *time* to admit I didn't really have anywhere *that* important to be, park the scooter under an overhang somewhere, and cool my heels until the rain either increased and washed off the oil, or stopped long enough for things to dry off. But did I?
Not quite *yet*. :)
Sometimes I'm a stupid motherfucker.
Less than a mile down the road, coming down the hill in front of the Shoal Creek Saloon, and despite *very* careful riding, I was once again forced to slam on the brakes, and *this* time, I went all the way over.
I've done full 180s in a vehicle before, but never while in contact with the pavement. I don't recommend it.
Luckily I was wearing thick jeans and my leather riding jacket, so I escaped with minor bruises and nearly no road rash. As I was rotating in slow motion on the pavement as I slid down the hill, I remember trying to figure out how to see behind me to make sure I wasn't going to be run over by an oncoming car, but "behind me" was kind of a moving target. Luckily everyone else was on their shit, and left me a respectable open space on the road for me to humiliate myself.
I sat in the road for a few seconds to make sure nothing was broken, then hauled up the scooter and started walking it off the road. Two pedestrians were already there to help me, for which I was grateful, and seconds later a truck pulled up and a man with a small boy in tow told me he was an off-duty paramedic, had seen the accident, and stopped to help. I thanked him profusely, and after a more involved self-checkup, said I thought I was ok and didn't need an ambulance.
Then I parked the fucking scooter, had the best garlic soup and hush puppies of my life at the Shoal Creek Saloon, and was quietly grateful for my life and the rain pitter-pattering the creek below me.
as part of my latest head trip. I saw there was a chance of isolated thunderstorms later in the evening, but I figured I'd be home by then. Because the scooter is a) electric and b) is missing 50% of its main body panel, I generally don't drive it when I think it will rain. Not to mention the fact that it's dangerous and uncomfortable and I was wearing sandals. I was headed north on Lamar when some idiot in a huge black pickup pulled a crazy stunt where he pulled out into the oncoming lane and *stopped* while waiting for a spot to open up in his lane. It had started sprinkling earlier, and I'd already had the thought that it was a very dangerous time to ride because it hadn't rained hard in a long time. All those fucking SXSW (GRR!) people had been hosing the streets with oil from their low-end, poorly-maintained shitboxes and the road was likely to be slick. When I hit the brakes, the scooter tried to lay over. It got to about 45 degrees before I caught it with my *sandaled* feet in Horse Stance and narrowly stopped it from smearing me over the pavement.
I did a skittering slide forward, bouncing on my sandals, into the space the truck thankfully no longer occupied.
It's a good thing I don't carry a gun.
I realized, very clearly at that moment, that now would be a *good* *time* to admit I didn't really have anywhere *that* important to be, park the scooter under an overhang somewhere, and cool my heels until the rain either increased and washed off the oil, or stopped long enough for things to dry off. But did I?
Not quite *yet*. :)
Sometimes I'm a stupid motherfucker.
Less than a mile down the road, coming down the hill in front of the Shoal Creek Saloon, and despite *very* careful riding, I was once again forced to slam on the brakes, and *this* time, I went all the way over.
I've done full 180s in a vehicle before, but never while in contact with the pavement. I don't recommend it.
Luckily I was wearing thick jeans and my leather riding jacket, so I escaped with minor bruises and nearly no road rash. As I was rotating in slow motion on the pavement as I slid down the hill, I remember trying to figure out how to see behind me to make sure I wasn't going to be run over by an oncoming car, but "behind me" was kind of a moving target. Luckily everyone else was on their shit, and left me a respectable open space on the road for me to humiliate myself.
I sat in the road for a few seconds to make sure nothing was broken, then hauled up the scooter and started walking it off the road. Two pedestrians were already there to help me, for which I was grateful, and seconds later a truck pulled up and a man with a small boy in tow told me he was an off-duty paramedic, had seen the accident, and stopped to help. I thanked him profusely, and after a more involved self-checkup, said I thought I was ok and didn't need an ambulance.
Then I parked the fucking scooter, had the best garlic soup and hush puppies of my life at the Shoal Creek Saloon, and was quietly grateful for my life and the rain pitter-pattering the creek below me.