One of the wonderful parts of living in California is that there are a lot of outdoor activities. After creating blog content about working in our drug detox, I sometimes will hop on my bicycle and go for a nice ride. It’s an off road bike as well as a street bike, so when the feeling strikes, and I am near a field, a hill, or whatever, I’ll hit that terrain. Nothing crazy, of course, because Recovery Rob is not as young as he once was.
So, why am I bringing up this bike ride thing here? Well, about six weeks ago, after leaving Pat Moore Foundation’s drug detox and rehab, I decided to hit the streets and head out for an hour. The weather was nice, the sun shining, and there were some clouds around, so the temperature wasn’t more than 65 degrees. Perfect riding weather, well, at least I thought so.
If you’ve been around Pat Moore Foundation you’d know it’s a busy area, a lot of traffic. Mostly that doesn’t bother me at all, as I’ve been riding in cities a lot. I’ve even gone bike riding in New York City. And I have to say that’s the best way to really see that city! Occasionally, there are some drivers who don’t pay attention, so I try to keep a sharp out for people texting or making phone calls while driving. I’ve not had a close call in many years.
As I was heading back to the office, to pick up my truck to drive the hour home, I was about four blocks away. The driver a car suddenly decided to cut into the bike lane and stop. It happened so quickly, I barely had time to swerve around the back end of the car. Pulling up to the side of the vehicle, after already practicing my most disgusted look, my tire hit something wet on the road, and I went down. Hard. Knowing that I needed to protect my helmeted head, I placed my arm down, and rolled from the momentum. I landed next to the tire of the car. Let me correct that. My head was under the car in front of the rear tire.
In a split second I realized I was in the middle of the street, cars zooming by, so I hopped to my feet, picked up my bike, and looked to the driver’s side mirror. She saw me. I saw her. Her phone was in her hand. Before I knew what was happening, she tooted her horn twice and drove away. I hadn’t the time to think, to look at the license plate. I needed to get out of the street though, so I rolled my bike to the sidewalk. Embarrassed, dejected, and the front of my shin was bleeding and scraped like I just slid into third base wearing only shorts.
No one stopped; no one came to me and asked if I was alright. People kept walking and driving. I wondered for a moment if it really happened.
Check out my blog tomorrow for part 2 of this post and my trip to the emergency room.
Part 2 – A Suboxone Detox in my Future?