Abigail Dougherty: She "Collided" With A Garbage Truck

Even though it's something I haven't done often, I've done it too frequently.

I am talking about writing posts like this one—in which I describe an encounter between a bicycle and a motor vehicle results in a dead cyclist.  Or dead cyclists, plural.

In too many such incidents, the driver was intoxicated.  Or, worse, the driver simply took off after running down a bike rider.  

From what I've read so far, the tragedy I'm about to relate doesn't fit into either of those categories.  It seems that the driver in question simply didn't see the cyclist:  a plausible scenario, especially given a few factors I'll mention in this post.


Abigail Dougherty, a University of Florida student just a couple of weeks from turning 21, was riding southbound on NW 17th Street in Gainesville and was starting to cross University Avenue.  

A garbage truck was rumbling along the same street, in the same direction at the same moment.  It, however turned right to go west on University.

Abigail Dougherty

A local news report said she "collided" with the garbage truck.  It's difficult to imagine how she could have done such a thing--unless she rode into the intersection as the truck was in the process of turning.

The more likely scenario, it seems, is that she was partway into the intersection when the driver started to round the corner for the turn.  If things transpired that way, it's not difficult to imagine how the driver might have lost sight of her, or never saw her in the first place, especially since garbage truck drivers don't have the best sight lines.

Having cycled for decades in New York, I have had tailed, dodged  and weaved around all manner of vehicles, including garbage trucks.  Probably the only vehicles with worse sight lines are long-haul trucks.  The best chance I have with garbage trucks or long-haul drivers, it seems, is to get them to see me. 

Of course, I do not know how Abigail Dougherty fell victim to a turning garbage truck. An investigation is ongoing, as of now; officials aren't even sure of who had the right-of-way.  According to a local attorney, motorists are expected to yield to cyclists and pedestrians before making a turn.  If footage of the incident can be found, I would think the question of right-of-way would be fairly easy to solve.  

Whatever the answer, we--cyclists and motorists, as well as pedestrians--need to be more cognizant of each other, and how each of us has different needs, but the same responsibilities, on the road.

Now that Ms. Dougherty's death has sparked a conversation about cyclists and drivers on the road, I hope it won't lead to misguided attempts--like bike lanes that, too often, are more dangerous than the streets--to make cycling "safer".

Whatever comes of this tragedy, I hope it helps to prevent more like it.  After all, who wants to hear about another cyclist (or anyone else, for that matter) cut down in the bloom of youth?

A Pinarello's Replacement On The Campus Bike Rack

In one of my early blog posts, I mentioned seeing a Pinarello on a campus where I worked.  I contrasted it with the near-absence of bicycles on another campus in which I worked, and that whenever I parked at the latter campus, my bike--even Marianela, the old Schwinn LeTour III on which I was commutig--was by far the best.

Well, the young man who used to ride the Pinarello has graduated.  But, yesterday, I saw another bike that surprised me almost as much as seeing that Pinarello did.

Seeing a late-model Cannondale, particularly in an upper middle-class suburban area like the neighborhood that surrounds the campus, is not remarkable in and of itself.  Seeing a Cannondale track bike is somewhat more unusual but, again, not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

What shocked me was how well-equipped that bike was.  Most track, fixie or single-speed bikes parked in campus bike racks have serviceable, but not spectacular components.  However, this Cannondale sported Mavic Ellipse track wheels, an FSA carbon crankset, a Ritchey Pro seat post, Salsa stem and Nitto bars.  

The only components that seemed incongruent were the flat pedals, intended for downhill mountain biking, made by Crank Brothers (makers of the Egg Beater pedals).  Don't get me wrong:  They're a high-quality component.  But they did seem odd on a bike that otherwise seemed to be built for the velodrome.

I wasn't able to get a better angle to take close-up shots because a motorcycle was parked next to the Cannondale.  But I think you can see why it stood out even in a bike rack that has hosted a Pinarello--and Vera, my green Mercian mixte.

A Helmet Meets A Name

Last year, I contrasted the two places in which I'd been teaching in terms of the number and kinds of bikes parked by them.  Since then, what was my second job became my main job.  And, at my now-main job, all of the racks are full on nice days, and one can find some bikes parked on campus even in the winter--except when there's a foot of snow on the ground.  On the other hand, at my now-second job, my bike is usually one of only four or five parked on campus.


What's just as interesting at my main job is that sometimes I'll see signs that some faculty or staff member is  riding to work:  He or she is carrying a bag that is obviously intended for use on a bike.  Or he or she is wearing cycling shoes.  Or, most commonly, a helmet is dangling by its straps from his or her fingers.


Yesterday, on my way to my first class, I crossed paths with a helmet-toter as I climbed, and she descended, the stairs.   "Elena" works in one of the offices that provides services to students;  she accompanied the director of her department. I'm guessing that Elena is within a few years, in either direction, of my age, and she has been cycling to school or work, she said, ever since she was an undergraduate at a nearby college.  

It was one of those conversations in which we talked about one thing and another before we learned each others' names.  They were surprised to find out that I, indeed, am the name that they've seen any number of times on the college's online "Community Dialogue."  What surprised them, I don't know.  Perhaps I don't look like the opinionated  and, if I do say so myself, passionate person they've seen in my comments, criticisms and responses on eCollege.  


The director had to go to a meeting, but Elena and I continued to talk about some of our "war" and horror stories about cycling to the campus, and generally.  It was good to know that I'm not the only cyclist on campus who believes that the bike racks, as they're set up, are impractical.  She said she'd spoken with campus officials about this and other matters.  I offered to help in any way I could to encourage more people to cycle to and from campus, and to make it more convenient and safer for them to make such a choice.


Now that I think of it, we could start some sort of organization for cyclists on campus.  There are certianly enough of us for that.  I wonder, though, how long it will take for us to get together if anyone else is meeting his or her cycling colleagues in a way similar to the way I met Elena yesterday.