A Crash On The Island

If I ever go to the Upper Great Lakes region, I definitely would want to spend time on Mackinac Island. Situated between Michigan’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas, Mackinac is car-free. So how do people get around?  They walk, ride horses—and pedal. Oh, and eBikes are allowed only for people with disabilities—and the kinds of eBikes allowed on the island are limited.

If it all sounds idyllic and a paradise for cyclists, well, by all accounts it is. But even there one can face hazards while pedaling the well-kept streets. 

On Wednesday afternoon, a 77-year old woman from the Detroit area was enjoying a westbound ride along the island’s Main Street when she collided with a horse-drawn carriage traveling in the opposite direction.

She was taken to a nearby hospital where she later died from her injuries.

I feel bad for the lady and her loved ones. But I, as a New Yorker, have to wonder whether such mishaps occur in or around Central Park: to my knowledge, the only part of the city where horse-drawn carriages operate.

¿Por Qué El Avetruz Cruzó La Calle?

Every once in a while, an animal crosses my path while riding.  Usually, the creature is a cat or dog who darts away when I get within a few feet.  When I've ridden in Florida, little green lizards played "chicken" with me as I rode along the paths and sidewalks. In Cambodia, macaques sat guard on the side of the road as I pedaled between the temples of Siem Reap. And in Laos, an elephant stopped and stared at me and the couple with whom I rode in and around Luang Pr'bang.

Only once did I have a too-close encounter with an animal:  On the return leg of a ride to Point Lookout, a cat (black, no less!) charged into my path and glanced off my front wheel--something I've never experienced before or since.  I tumbled into the rear of a parked car and ended up with bruises and a couple of days' worth of pain, but no serious injury. 

At least I was more fortunate than a woman in Argentina.  As she pedaled into a Buenos Aires intersection, an ostrich--yes, you read that right--charged into her.  

Now, since I have never encountered an ostrich that wasn't caged,  I had no idea that they could run so fast:  They can attain speeds of 70KPH (44MPH).  One thing I know is that an ostrich is bigger than, say, a sparrow.  So the force of that earthbound avian's impact knocked that woman, I am sure, harder than the cat who ran into my front wheel in Ozone Park.

So, perhaps not surprisingly, she got hurt worse than I did:  The bird, after hobbling, toppling over and continuing on its way, left the woman with a broken wrist and a large cut on her head.

Argentine authorities haven't said what charges, if any will be leveled against the bird.  For one thing, the Argentine speed limit is 40KPH (25MPH) in residential areas and 60KPH (37MPH) in urban areas.  A review of videos could reveal whether the ostrich--which seems to have escaped from someone's home--was doing its "personal best."  Oh, and I have to wonder what Argentinian law says about leaving the scene of an accident.