On Sunday's ride I had seen a wild goose on the river trail; on Tuesday I saw what was probably the same goose. He was in the same spot, and on both occasions he did the exact same thing.
He sat by the side of the trail, ignoring me...
...until I got close enough for an encounter to be potentially dangerous. Then he decided to panic and fly across my path (don't worry, we didn't collide):
He landed a short distance away down the bank:
I regretted not getting his photo on Sunday, so it was really very kind of him to wait by the side of the trail on Tuesday, and to panic again for my especial benefit. Just when I happened to have my camera out, too. :)
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A few miles later (I was back on the road by this time), I was hit by a car from behind. I felt a huge blow on the back of my arm, and saw a car go whizzing by with pieces flying off of it. Strangely enough there was no immediate pain; I was able to apply the brakes, carefully ride onto the verge, and climb off the bike - screaming the while. (The adrenaline response is very fascinating.)
The driver slowed, turned around, and came back; she was very apologetic, and urged me to let her call 911. By this time my arm was beginning to hurt and I realised I'd better have it checked out.
Long story short - no bones were broken. I have some nasty bruises on my arm and a really spectacular one on my hip; my arm was also badly cut and required stitches. My left hand is stiff and sore, and temporarily weakened by the bruising in my arm. But my bike was untouched - for which I am very grateful. (I can be stitched up, but my bike can't.)
As I was leaving my dad's apartment Tuesday, he said, "I'll pray that you have a safe ride home." I'm glad he did. Though the ride wasn't entirely safe, it could have been very much worse than it was.
Thanks, Dad. And thanks to all those who pitched in to help a crying, shaking stranger by the side of the road. I really appreciate it.
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