

The only thing that prevented this scenario was me not drifting away from the kerb, there being no obstacle to avoid, and there being no wind pushing me the smallest distance outwards.ĭue to the actions of one driver, my life was nearly ended and my family nearly left fatherless. She would have had to explain to my daughter what had happened. Everything began to run through my head, how my wife would have had the police arrive at the door, how she would have had to call my parents and sister. If I had moved to my right at all in that split second, my daughter would have lost a father and my soon-to-be-born son would never have met me. It was only then I realised how close to death I had been. Then, I jumped in the shower and began to calm down and think rationally.

I got home still pretty angry, put my bike in the garage and went to say hello to my heavily pregnant wife who had just dropped my two-year-old daughter at nursery.
Breakaway bottles near me drivers#
This is the instant reaction that we’re used to, the one we see in videos, but it’s the part afterwards that has the real impact and the bit that drivers don’t see. I was angry and instantly fuming that somebody seemed to deliberately put me in that much danger for no reason, and appeared to have done it deliberately.
Breakaway bottles near me driver#
It took me a couple of seconds to understand what had happened and to shout the second-worst swear word, and my next action was to call the driver the worst one. It all happened so fast that there was almost no reaction beyond a slight wobble. There was no firm gripping of the bars, no increased heart rate. To be honest, I didn’t even have time to do everything I mentioned in the first paragraph. Then about 10 seconds later, a Transit pickup truck raced past me leaving all of 12 inches, at well over 50mph. It slowed and passed me perfectly, completely on the other side of the white line. Not on this occasion, unfortunately.Īs I was riding I was aware of a big Luton van behind me. My final kilometre is along a relatively quiet A road, and after 300m it goes from 50mph down to 30mph, so there usually is very little issue with it. Despite getting lost it had generally been a great ride. Even on these thin lanes, every driver I encountered gave me plenty of room. I then had a lovely ride of a few miles in the late summer sunshine along quiet country lanes. For some reason the path went through somebody’s garden, then back onto a road.

After 20 minutes of trying to find my way out of what seemed to be the world’s largest field, I found the path again and was back on track. I decided to try a new route, and as is the way in many rural areas, the path I was following had become a ploughed field with no signs. I was wearing a bright orange jersey, a red helmet, and even had a light and radar system. I set out to do a quick gravel ride before work. Despite this, yesterday I experienced the worst close pass I have experienced in my 20+ years of riding. I recently moved to the Cotswolds, where the main roads are wider, cars drive faster, and the standard of driving is generally much better. However, all this meant that while close passes were almost a daily experience, they took place at much lower speeds. To be honest the standards of driving were generally worse, the number of cars were a lot higher, and the streets a lot narrower, so it’s not surprising. I lived in London for 15 years, and close passes there are unfortunately common. That sudden feeling of something alongside you, that skip in your heartbeat when you’re not sure whether they’re doing it on purpose or if they’ve not seen you, the clenching of the bars and hoping you don’t get dragged under the wheels.Ĭlose passes are unfortunately an aspect of cycling that we have all experienced to varying degrees. Anybody who is a regular cyclist has experienced it.
