Riding along Market Street towards the Ferry Building yesterday, I was about to stop to go into the S.F. Bicycle Coalition offices just past 5th Street when a car pulled ahead of me, stopped well away from the curb and a backseat passenger opened the door into my leg as I was riding by, stripping me of about 4 inches of skin and knocking me over onto the sidewalk. It hurt like hell. And I said so when a young man stood over me, all apologetic. A woman helped me back up, said her husband had been run down just a few days before, though I don't know if he was hurt. I pulled up my pant leg and could see a swath of missing skin, but it wasn't bleeding (that soon changed) and once I figured out nothing was broken I went on about my errand.
By the time I got up to the SFBC's 10th floor office blood was running down my leg, and sweet Jodie whipped out their First Aid kit and off we went to fix me up.
I don't really want to take my big blue Bandaids off, but guess I'll have to take a shower soon. (It's a very shallow scrape, but will be messy once uncovered, I'm afraid.)
Jill gave me her high-top All Stars and they're by far the best, most comfortable bike shoes I've ever worn, now that I have platform pedals and strapless toeclips on my Miyata . . . no need for cleats on that bike. Thanks, Jill!