The car roared by three feet from my front wheel. 40 miles an hour- right across the crosswalk I was in- right through a light that had been red for over a minute. He never even got off the gas until he tapped his brakes halfway across the intersection. One second difference and I would have been killed. No doubt. It was- That. Close.
My friend Ed has blogged on The Daily Randonneur about DC drivers regarding red lights as "suggestions." RTP drivers aren't much better, but this was different. I imagine this driver was distracted on his cell, being asked to pick up 1% milk on his way home- or was that 2%- and his microwave dinner was getting cold. As my startled face blurred by, he realized how close he'd come to killing someone. Or at least, that's what I choose to believe.
The point is (and don't take this as fear-mongering) please keep your eyes open. Ride happy, but ride defensively. All the lights and reflective gear in the world don't matter when a careless driver is running late for supper.
Now please excuse me. I have some shorts to clean out.
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