Let’s be local for a moment. Jamaica Plain is a special place. I’m a fan and there often to see friends and enjoy the community around Centre Street. And the one piece of Boston where I feel comfortable tried to kill me this morning. Tried again, I should say, because a half year back something similar happened but in less dramatic fashion.
It centers around the Trolley. People are split about the trolley line that used to run down Centre Street and connect to Green Line transit into downtown Boston. Stores all along the street have signs both for and against. It’s surprisingly divisive. And after this morning I have a strong opinion: Rip the fucking trolley tracks out of the ground. Any cyclist knows that the grooved tracks are dangerous and that you cross them at your own peril. But the crossings are unavoidable when the streets get clogged with weekend traffic. And unless you hit them straight on, they grab onto the front wheel of your bike and don’t let go. I was tossed into a lane of oncoming traffic. It was only luck that there wasn’t a car close enough to hit me. I was almost a sad story new bikers tell each other to warn them about city riding. And my bicycle is no happier about this than I am. Things are whacked badly out of alignment and I’ve yet to figure out how much I can straighten on my own and how much will need some professional help. The strange thing about the crash this morning is that no one seemed to notice. I quickly got up and pulled myself and my bike to the sidewalk where I stood shaking. My teeth were gritted, my adrenaline was pumping and I was furious—at myself for hitting the tracks and at the world for not making the roads safer. There was no obvious bleeding, but people passing by said nothing and barely noticed, even though moments before I was sprawled in the middle of the road. It was fine because I needed a few moments alone to collect myself, but I was immediately aware of how strange it felt to be in a state of physical and emotional crisis and to be completely ignored. Boston, it’s a friendly town. A bike friendly town.
1 comment:
Okay, I got here from friendster. (Nice to meet you!) I come bearing questions. Well, a question, anyway: I'm freshly back in town and want to get a road bike. Ideally, I'd like to ride a sweet fixed-gear and be the coolest shit on wheels. Unfortunately, I have no idea of the bike shops in the area, and I'm feeling especially picky because I don't want to be mocked by expert bikers. Can you recommend a place?
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