In the hands of a driver more preoccupied and less aware I could have had a front row seat tonight to a show no one wants to see: the serious injury — or worse — of a child on a bike.
It happened — or rather didn’t — in the midst of the residential cut-through I take that bridges me from Venice Boulevard to Crescent Heights. Actually I don’t really know how it didn’t happen. I really don’t know how the life of the 2600 block of South Garth Avenue was allowed to go quietly on into just another lazy late summer evening, instead of being so radically altered and forced to host the bright flashing lights of L.A. City Fire Department emergency response vehicles.
As is the case of late I had my cam mounted to my handlebars, doing yet another of the timelapse-fetish captures (such as this one) I’ve been making of my commutes to and from work. You can click to maximate the assembled strip of stills, but the images don’t really do the close-call miracle justice:
And it was a miracle. From my vantage point it’s beyond me how the driver prevented the collision between his vehicle’s front bumper and the girl’s body and bike — helmetless girl, at that. Hell, I didn’t see her until she was smack in front of the car — and the guy had already been slowing down when she darted out from a driveway apron into the oncoming sedan’s path, herself not knowing the vehicle was there. I guess I’ll just have to chalk it up to the greatest uncanny combination of intuition, anticipation, and lightning fastest reaction time. Ever.
Split-second unsung heroes, my friends. They are everywhere.