A metro bus crowded me against a construction barricade the other day, brushing my arm with its side body. Bikes have to merge into one-lane traffic during a stretch of road where construction overlaps the bike lane. I take “merge with traffic” literally, assuming the center of the lane with my bike as though I were a car. Depending on the traffic load, sometimes cars have to wait behind me because I can’t get up to the 30 they like to go. Usually the traffic is heavy and we all go slowly through the construction. Some bikes speed by, weaving in and out of cars, but I stay safe and center. For some reason I hugged the side of the road the other day. I don’t know why I did that. Perhaps I was preoccupied with thoughts in my head. And that's when the bus brushed me. The rest of the day, the resultant rug burns on my elbow rubbed painfully against my clothing, a constant reminder of my idiocy. I felt completely at fault. Why didn’t I take the defensive center of the road position?

Then the burns scabbed over, lessening my pain and subsequent guilt. For the next several days, the tender bruising on my elbow completely changed my conscience. I have several bright lights on my bike. I wear reflective, bright clothing. I signaled my merge and rode at a consistent speed. The bus came up from behind and passed. The driver had no reason not to see me. As it approached, I slowed my speed, but it slowed as well. I was so sure it would veer left and give me more space. Instead, it veered closer to the construction barricade and blocked me in. The bus driver had every opportunity to see me, and every opportunity to give me space. Even if I wasn’t being defensive, I should have been safe. As the bus wall banged into my left arm, my bike involuntarily short to the right, making my front tire touch the construction barricade. Here, as I tried with all my might to keep my bike steady, the bus driver still had opportunity to veer left. Instead, it continued to narrow my passage. For a moment, while my elbow kept banging again and again along the bus wall and my wheel swerved madly, I was sure I’d fall. I didn’t fall, and I take full credit for that. Had I not had the practice of commuting 60 miles a week for the past 5 years, I may not have maintained control. If I were a new rider, that could have been my last ride. 

I’ll never know if the bus driver didn’t see me or was just being an ass. One thing I do know is that I will always take the center lane now when no shoulder is available. I also know that even if I am not riding perfectly defensively, others on the road share a responsibility to keep all of us safe.

I wish I could teleport all the drivers who honk at me and hate on me to that moment when I was sandwiched between bus and barricade, just for a moment. I am not trying to be “that” cyclist. I am not trying to hog the road and make life miserable for everyone else. I don’t have an agenda, I don’t have any snooty attitude. I am just trying to get to work. I think we all have a right to do that without having to wonder if we’ll ever make it in.