Hollow Road Rider
New member
Stupid big mistakes-- and now she doesn't want to get on again,
Last week we spent seven days riding rural country roads through small country towns and tiny communities in Wisconsin. It was very enjoyable and so easy. Then, it was a shock to re-enter the urban mayhem via I94 into Chicago on a Monday afternoon.
Typically, I avoid slab riding, especially with my spouse on board, as I get the tell tale clenched knees grabbing my hips every few seconds when she is the pillion on those roads. So why didn’t I avoid the interstate this time? I can only offer the usual lame excuses about nearing the end of the 7 plus hour trip and anxious to see my grandkids whom we have missed daily. [First Mistake--- the key word above is “anxious”] We came off of the two lane Rte. 41 and entered I94 as it becomes three lanes. I typically take the left lane because it offers more escape routes than others. So I did my usual over the shoulder look- mirror check- another over shoulder look and moved into the left lane with a turn signal as well. I moved into the right wheel track of the left lane at 65mph to keep up with the locals. [Second Mistake--- I should have moved to the left wheel track, making a firm position of lane ownership.] I was only in this right track briefly, ten, twenty seconds, and just about to move to the left track, then suddenly there was a loud swooshing noise to my left, a large black blur, and then a roar, as a shiny late model BMW coupe shot past us on the left only inches away, as he split the lane at an incredible speed. He continued to cut left and right over and over and weaving his way through the slowing traffic ahead as the congestion built. I was astonished and sick as we gradually made our way to the right lane to regain our composure. Nancy thought she was going to puke, and I was pretty close to that myself. I was shocked more than anything. Congestion quickly built in all the lanes as we neared an exit (Tower Road) where I decided it would be best to escape the madness of high speed Urban *******s. Then, as I moved into the exit lane, who should suddenly make a few more quick lane changes and appear in front of me, but Mr. shiny BMW himself. We curved up to the stop light lane split together, he choosing to go left, south, and me to go right. Suddenly, as I was now actually close to, and at a stand still next to this shiny reckless car, while we both had no choice but to wait, my anger seemed to spring up out of nowhere and I quickly maneuvered my bike into a position next to the passenger window of the reckless *******. I don’t think I have ever felt such disgust and rage and fear all at the same time. [Third Mistake] I am not sure if the passenger window was already down, or if he lowered it to accommodate me, I could see that there was a female passenger, and a male driver who obviously anticipated that I had something to share--- that is all I registered as I then spoke what are probably the worst possible words anybody could say to a black man in America today--- “If I had a gun, I would kill you now.” [Fourth Mistake] I have no idea yet where that came from in me. Yes, I own guns. No, I have no interest in concealed carry laws, and you could count the times I fire a gun in a year on one hand. As the words passed my lips, I suddenly realized that the driver and his passenger were, in fact, black. I maneuvered back into the right lane waiting for the green. Then I heard the BMW engine roaring behind us, and sure enough, he was tight on my tail as I made my way east over the congested interstate, flowing with the others who sought an alternate route. He came up beside me on the left and tried to run me off the road several times and I figured he didn’t really want to mess up that expensive car, but I also figured if I stopped and got off the bike, I’d probably never see the light of day again. So I moved with the traffic and figured I’d better head straight to the cop shop parking lot in Wilmette or Winnetka. Soon enough, he turned off and headed west again and left us shaken, angered, and now embarrassed. I feel like **** about it.
More lessons learned.
Last week we spent seven days riding rural country roads through small country towns and tiny communities in Wisconsin. It was very enjoyable and so easy. Then, it was a shock to re-enter the urban mayhem via I94 into Chicago on a Monday afternoon.
Typically, I avoid slab riding, especially with my spouse on board, as I get the tell tale clenched knees grabbing my hips every few seconds when she is the pillion on those roads. So why didn’t I avoid the interstate this time? I can only offer the usual lame excuses about nearing the end of the 7 plus hour trip and anxious to see my grandkids whom we have missed daily. [First Mistake--- the key word above is “anxious”] We came off of the two lane Rte. 41 and entered I94 as it becomes three lanes. I typically take the left lane because it offers more escape routes than others. So I did my usual over the shoulder look- mirror check- another over shoulder look and moved into the left lane with a turn signal as well. I moved into the right wheel track of the left lane at 65mph to keep up with the locals. [Second Mistake--- I should have moved to the left wheel track, making a firm position of lane ownership.] I was only in this right track briefly, ten, twenty seconds, and just about to move to the left track, then suddenly there was a loud swooshing noise to my left, a large black blur, and then a roar, as a shiny late model BMW coupe shot past us on the left only inches away, as he split the lane at an incredible speed. He continued to cut left and right over and over and weaving his way through the slowing traffic ahead as the congestion built. I was astonished and sick as we gradually made our way to the right lane to regain our composure. Nancy thought she was going to puke, and I was pretty close to that myself. I was shocked more than anything. Congestion quickly built in all the lanes as we neared an exit (Tower Road) where I decided it would be best to escape the madness of high speed Urban *******s. Then, as I moved into the exit lane, who should suddenly make a few more quick lane changes and appear in front of me, but Mr. shiny BMW himself. We curved up to the stop light lane split together, he choosing to go left, south, and me to go right. Suddenly, as I was now actually close to, and at a stand still next to this shiny reckless car, while we both had no choice but to wait, my anger seemed to spring up out of nowhere and I quickly maneuvered my bike into a position next to the passenger window of the reckless *******. I don’t think I have ever felt such disgust and rage and fear all at the same time. [Third Mistake] I am not sure if the passenger window was already down, or if he lowered it to accommodate me, I could see that there was a female passenger, and a male driver who obviously anticipated that I had something to share--- that is all I registered as I then spoke what are probably the worst possible words anybody could say to a black man in America today--- “If I had a gun, I would kill you now.” [Fourth Mistake] I have no idea yet where that came from in me. Yes, I own guns. No, I have no interest in concealed carry laws, and you could count the times I fire a gun in a year on one hand. As the words passed my lips, I suddenly realized that the driver and his passenger were, in fact, black. I maneuvered back into the right lane waiting for the green. Then I heard the BMW engine roaring behind us, and sure enough, he was tight on my tail as I made my way east over the congested interstate, flowing with the others who sought an alternate route. He came up beside me on the left and tried to run me off the road several times and I figured he didn’t really want to mess up that expensive car, but I also figured if I stopped and got off the bike, I’d probably never see the light of day again. So I moved with the traffic and figured I’d better head straight to the cop shop parking lot in Wilmette or Winnetka. Soon enough, he turned off and headed west again and left us shaken, angered, and now embarrassed. I feel like **** about it.
More lessons learned.
