Interlude: Near Miss on a Bike Path

I don't even remember what year this was. I had Kermit, so it must've been in early 2001. Cheryl still had her Bianchi, and Richie still rode with us. This was back before I was an official ride leader, when we were just starting to go out on our own.

We were a small group, maybe half a dozen. Richie and Cheryl were there. I was in the lead as we turned from Elm Road onto the bike path behind Elm Court in Princeton. Up ahead I saw a woman in a wheelchair, in her bathrobe and slippers, with a little terrier on a leash. I signaled to slow down.

She saw us and moved her chair to one side. But at the last minute, as I was about to pass, she backed up even further, and two wheels went off the path. Her chair began to tip. Cheryl was behind me. We both jumped off our bikes. Cheryl was closer and grabbed the wheelchair handles. She and the woman managed to right the chair and get it back onto the blacktop.

The woman said, "Whoo! I scared myself."

Cheryl said, "You scared us! Are you okay?"

She assured us she was fine, but we kept asking anyway. The little dog strained on the leash. "What's his name?" Cheryl asked.

"Mitzy," she said, as we reached down to pet the dog. "She's very friendly."

"Can I get you anything?" Cheryl asked. "Do you want a Power Bar?"

The woman said she was fine, and after reassuring us a few more times, we continued on our way.

Around the bend, I said, "Good thing this isn't an official ride. How would I write this up? That we nearly ran over an old lady in a wheelchair?" The adrenaline was still flowing.

Miles later, in a quiet moment, Richie broke the silence:

"Outa the way, Mitzy! It's every man for himself!"