Hellenic Dancers at Wisner & Robert E. Lee

Another day feeling out of sorts, another day riding the bike to try to reset. I headed out in the heat of the day toward Mid-City to check out Greek Fest on the Bayou–Opa! It is really, really hot out there, so I was a soggy mess by the time I made it through City Park and up the Wisner bike path to Robert E. Lee. I paid my five bucks, filled out my raffle ticket, and wandered in.
I passed up the food stands and the “fun festival wear” stands and the beer to go inside to try to get some air conditioning. Just my luck–it was time for the Hellenic dancers! Opa! I snapped this photo as they took us all to Mykonos, and then headed over to the church for a tour, relics and all. I got myself a “Greek” iced coffee and considered my festival done. I rode up to the lake and sat and watched a guy reel in a huge catfish. I pedaled around and back down to Robert E. Lee, stopping for a rather unpalatable veggie burger in a rather empty restaurant. The air had cooled just a tiny bit as I headed back home, and it helped me pick up my legs. I rode up Canal as far to the right as practicable, crossing Claiborne, when I was hit by a car. First thing’s first–I am fine. It hit me on the rear rack and I took off the passenger side rear view mirror, but I didn’t even fall off the bike–I have no idea how that worked. But I was scared. And the driver didn’t even slow down to see if I was ok. I pulled over to the sidewalk and burst into hysterical tears–it’s scary to have that trust that everybody’s paying some attention and isn’t going to rear end you broken, because we kind of depend on it. A gentleman walked over, gave me a hug, and told me to just sit down for a minute, catch my breath. I did that while he sat next to me, and a woman and her daughter pulled up next to us. They gave me the info on the car that hit me and their names and numbers, in case I needed an eyewitness to my hit and run. That driver was an ass, but everybody else was being awfully kind. I shakily walked my bike to S.’s house, where she distracted me with seltzer (I love fizzy water) and some music. Then I was ready to ride home, which I did, as far to the right as practicable, reflectivity out the wazoo, using my hand signals. Safety first, but there’s only so much you can do. But no matter what, I’m certainly not going to not ride my bike–all I can do is control what I can control and enjoy the rides.

6 thoughts on “Hellenic Dancers at Wisner & Robert E. Lee

  1. It wasn’t a fucking grey van was it? Same bullshit happened to me, hit and run, I also knocked off their right side mirror with MY FIST, bent my front rim.

  2. I am sorry this happened and I am glad that only a mirror was broken. They don’t see us – the bikes. Look for the marker at Esplanade and Bayou St. John – a biker crushed on the bridge by a garbage truck. I don’t have any answers. And again I am glad you’re ok. Good luck out there.

  3. I’m sure glad you’re okay, Kate. Scary thing for sure. I respect you for getting up on the bike thereafter. I love you.

  4. I am so mad at that driver. What if you were hurt to the extent you needed medical help? Or not. I hope you reported this person because he/she is a menace and more.
    love,
    Mom

  5. Oh, sweetie, I’m glad I didn’t read this until today.

    I admire your tough sensitivity. Happy you’re OK, and proud of your resilience.

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