Intermittently, I ride my bike to work. I used to do it quite frequently, untill I had The Accident.

Here's how it went down. At the top of the Arguello Hill, leading into the presidio, is a long winding downhill road.

It's never terribly steep, but it's long enough to build up some powerful momentum. Halfway down, the bike lane vanishes mysteriously, and the side of the road slopes down into a gully. Shortly after, the road bends sharp to the left, and the back to the right. At the very bottom, my path takes me on a 90 degree right turn towards my office.

I used to delight in going down this hill full speed, leaning over at a 45 degree angle on each turn. It was reckless, stupid, and wonderful. And then one day, it ended.

I was flying down the hill when I saw another biker near the bottom going very slow. On the final right angle right turn, he went much wider than I expected, so I went even wider, which brought me face to face with oncoming traffic. I hit my back brakes and attempted to turn harder, which caused my back tire to slide and the bike to fall into the turn. I jerked hard to over correct and went down, hard and fast.


I don't remember the crash, I just remember a bright white flash and a high pitched sound. Both of which probably never happened. When I came too, I was on my side, under my bike. I had bruised my legs and slid on my jeans, but the worst was my arm. I had put down my elbow on the concrete to keep my head up. I'll spare the real details, but I gouged pretty deep into my arm.

Flash forward! Nearly nine months later, the scar is still stitching together. I've started riding again, but I avoid that hill. If I do go down it, occasionally, I ride the brakes and take a slow leisurely pace. That hill still gives me the creeps; and everytime my back tire slides, my heart is in my throat.

So today, I did it. Full speed, no breaks, with a deliberate hard break at the end. I wore the jeans I took the spill in, and a smiliar shirt (the original was destroyed in the crash). I listened to the same song on my mp3 player (Blood on the Wall, which I haven't really listened to since, because it reminded me of the fall).

What I tried to look like.

What I looked like.

I took a deep breath, and went, pedalling for extra speed. For a brief moment, I remembered why I used to enjoy it so much, it was exhiliarting. Then the first turn caught be by suprise. I've gotten speedometer since the accident, so I took this chance to see how fast I was going. 31 mph. On a bike. Down a hill. Stupid, stupid, stupid.


I took the first turn without dying and then the next. 35 mph.

Then I took the last turn onto flat streets, where before I'd slid across concrete on my side for 10 feet. I breaked the back tire hard, and it began that sickening slide. I did not overcorrect this time, and gently righted myself.

33mph. I was going 33 mph when I crashed.

But I did it. I don't believe I'll do it again, but I think I'll fear the hill a little less... We'll see in the coming days.