This entry is from my personal diary, September 24, 2010. On-topic, but something I had planned to keep to myself for ever.
Close call last night.
I was riding in the dark, late at night, which I never really do. Somehow I drifted in to a cocoon of white noise and darkness. The other vehicles are ere points of light – no mass to help with the visual interpretation of the physics.. I find myself riding up on the bumper of a slower car. I’m in lane 2 (from the left) and going hard. I’m coming too fast and snap out of my road daze to start to pass him. But there is an SUV in my left blind spot. I notice him, and also realize that I’m lane changing without signaling. I swerve slightly, back in to my own lane, down throttle, and glance back. He has backed off so I figure he’s letting me go. So I gun it, only to see that he’s right back there, gunning it also. I keep it going this time, essentially making a pass on the dividing line, while an SUV is beside and slightly behind me, honking his horn. I get around the obstacle, and make 3 “correct” lane changes to the right for my exit. The SUV continues down the fast lane, apparently one of those hard-pushing wait-for-no-one drivers as well.
The strange thing is, it never really “hit” me. No adrenaline dump as I took in what just happened. It all felt like a dream. Not like it wasn’t happening to me, but abstract and matter of fact. Like when you are dreaming something vivid and dangerous, but you can feel the pillow against your face and the weight of the blanket, so you feel safe and distanced from it at the same time. That’s what it felt like, surrounded by a pillow of darkness and white noise. Black noise? I’m mainly pissed that I let something like that happen. And that for a brief moment I was one of those crazy bikers that’s always doing something crazy and unpredictable, lets just hope he doesn’t kill anybody else when he kills himself.