So, if you ride a bike as much as I do, you are bound to get in an accident or two. Yep. The day started with a leisurely ride down to the Bywater for brunch. I then headed toward the Lower Ninth to take in some P1 art, but right before I took that right from Poland onto the St. Claude bridge over the Industrial Canal, I slammed in to an opening car door. It took me completely by surprise–I barely had time to turn a little to the left–and I rammed into that purple Scion driver’s side door with my right shoulder (surgical reconstruction has made it strong, thank goodness), right cheek, and right thigh. I stayed on the bike and I think I’m ok, though still shaken up, but the car door can’t say the same; I bent its hinges and it wouldn’t close. I lingered for a bit, talking to John, the driver, and then got back on my bike and road over the bridge and continued on my way. Until I got C. on the phone and burst in to tears. That was really scary! And the adrenaline started wearing off, so I started to feel the pain. I cut my art visit short after touring the Lower Ninth Ward Village and headed home, grateful for the St. Claude bike lane. I took this picture of a brick facade, crumbling but for sale. Actually, it’s sold. I wonder who bought it and what they’ll do with it. Fortunately, I live here, and I ride my bike, accidents and cold and rain be damned, everywhere. So I’ll be back to see what happens on this corner. Stay tuned.