Jeremiah was hit by a car last night. He is thankfully ok, excepting some mild bruising, but the bike is not. Dickwad drove over his back wheel. Makes a nice taco shape now. About the same curve as a pringle. We're a bit stranded, but doing well.
So the adventure. We left Crescent City to bike down to Arcata/Eureka (to look for work and stay near the coast and redwoods), encountered a lot of rain and a large hill along with oncoming darkness, and then remembered that there was a city bus that went from Crescent City to Arcata. Being only a couple miles out, we decided to cruise back down the hill and catch the bus instead. Our previous encounters with this bus system had left a good impression - we were able to get from the state park to town, 10 miles, for 1.50 each. Figured the long trip would maybe cost 10 or 15 bucks at the most, but we were willing to pay it to get there and start turning in resumes.
It cost 25 each. Out of the question. So here we are at 830 on a Saturday night, soaked and frozen, contemplating cheap hotels rather than riding 5 miles to find camping. We priced a few and were on our way to another when we met Dickwad.
Coasting along the eastern sidewalk of S101 at pedestrian speeds, Miah 15 feet in front of me, passing the entrance to Jack in the Box. Dude comes cruising out of the parking lot going for a left turn... directly at Miah. Like he wasn't even there. So Miah swerved into the street to avoid him, and Dickwad -kept going-. Drove right into him, knocked him down into the street in a tangle of legs and bicycle, and continued over his rear tire. I was speechless, and Dickwad looked straight at me as he drove off without slowing a bit. Got his license and what the car looked like, filed a police report, and began strategizing. Poor bike wouldn't move at all; the tire's done for.
The funny part is that we ended up pitching 50 for a motel room within walking/carrying distance.... what we would have spent to get a ride 70 miles south.
Lessons here... trust your instincts, and don't trust Crescent City drivers.
Earlier, waiting for the bus, a truck rolled up to a light for a right turn; when the light turned red on him, he immediately swerved right and drove across the curb, into the park, down the sidewalk, and continued on his merry way. No brake lights; no hesitation. I hate this town.
BUT.
Since the library is closed Sunday/Monday, and we couldn't afford another night's lodging, we figured a church would be our best bet. So this morning we hauled all our stuff and the dead bike ten blocks to the United Methodist church and told them our predicament. They were sweethearts. We were driven to someone's house for lunch, I'm currently on the computer at the pastor's house, where she's letting us stay for the night, and we've been offered rides around town if we need to go to the food bank or bike shop or whatever. Also we got free coffee. And a bag of cheese. And pizza.
So now we're heading back to Seattle asap; this misadventure has dipped us under our monetary limit and we need to hightail it back to the safety net of jobs and familiar territory.
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