Today I rode down to the Marigny for breakfast with a friend, with the plan to get some writing done over coffee afterward. My good buddy S. called from Mississippi with bad news–she’d been in a car accident (don’t worry–everybody’s ok, including the dog)–and that put a crimp in my plan. I rode back home in a bit of a daze, glad everyone was alright, but in that “my, things can change quickly” state of mind. I rode home up Royal, which turns in to St. Charles past Canal. This is the corner where A. took a serious tumble last summer on her first ride to and from the Quarter. She’d been scared to ride, but I told her everything would be ok. Follow me–I make this ride almost daily. But she got her tire caught in the streetcar track and went down, rolling out of the way while the streetcar rumbled over her poor bike. It was scary, and I felt terrible. I’ve had my own accidents on these tracks; I’ve learned well the importance of crossing them at a ninety degree angle. As I was racing home today I found myself awkwardly stuck behind the streetcar without a proper shoulder to avoid dooring on the right and midday cars speeding my on the left. So I stopped and snapped this photo from my bike and thought about accidents. I’ve had plenty, and friends sometimes wonder how I can get back on and keep riding. But you know what? Accidents can happen anywhere, anytime. I can only control what I can control, and the rest isn’t worth staying inside to avoid. Being on a bike feels too, too good, and it isn’t any more dangerous than riding in a car (I think). Today I controlled this my safety in this little traffic jam by taking the sidewalk till I got a good couple of blocks ahead and then zipped home, happy to talk to S. and happy that only her hand is broken. Because I love that head of hers. Be careful out there, everybody.