You're scurrying down McKinley Avenue to get to a class that has already started, and you know the professor takes attendance. Your sole mission is to get in the class as quickly as possible. After crossing the street the world suddenly explodes with horrible sensations; pain is everywhere, you've fallen down and you're tangled in what seems to be a modern version of a medieval torture device.
What happened?
Congratulations, you've just been hit by an everyday mode of transportation that was invented without a thought of administering pain: the bicycle.
As you untangle yourself and check for spokes and pedals lodged in your rib cage, the rider inevitably exclaims either "Oh! I didn't see you there," "I'm sorry" or "What the hell are you doing? I wouldn't have hit you if you were paying attention." Fault aside, it's a highly unpleasant way to start out your day.
It seems an unlikely situation, one that a few unfortunates will have to deal with in college. According to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, there were 698 deaths and 43,000 accidents involving bicyclists in 2007.
Campus seems like a safer place, but appearances can be deceiving. I know, because I've been the victim of a ride-by assault on campus.
Twice.
The first wasn't the smash into-you-and-destroy-vital-organs type; it was simply a tire running over my foot. After that, I had little animosity toward bikers. Accidents happen.
As you can imagine, I wasn't so tolerant the second time around when I was hit with full force from behind and left with bruises and scrapes for weeks. After that, bicyclists were categorized with what I like to think of as the Fraternity of Horrible Drivers. They're the ones who never pay attention, don't know what a turn signal is and are always making turns when the Scramble Light is chirping its tune to a full intersection of people.
Ideas on how to avoid another accident were plentiful. I even tried to champion the idea of prohibiting bikes, but all I got was this stupid smoking ban.
The thoughts lay dormant until recently, when a dilemma arose: I became a part of the bicycle problem. I found a bike at my parent's house and brought it here on a whim. I felt empowered when I was riding the bike. I could leave for class a few minutes later, sleep more and get places faster than all those mere walkers. Any thought of my fellow students flew away as the wind swept by my body.
Then, feet pumping and heart racing, it happened. I narrowly missed an unsuspecting walker who was crossing the street. React, scream out an expletive, get on the brakes, swerve and suddenly the collision is nothing but what could have happened. "Why didn't they look before they crossed? They almost ran into me!" I thought.
Without realization, I had become one of them. A desire for quicker transportation transformed me into one of the uncaring monsters I constantly watched out for in the past. I was appalled, but it didn't stop me from riding the bike.
And now, the conundrum: How do you ride a bike without putting unsuspecting parties at risk?
It doesn't help that campus is about as conducive to bikers as it is to smokers, for different reasons of course. I think I have the ultimate solution: flying bicycles. Until I can figure out how to change the laws of physics, however, I think I'll have to settle for more awareness, less-traveled routes and slower speeds.
Or maybe Ball State officials should continue their efforts to control our health and expand their list of totally reasonable prohibitions and ban walking on campus. That way, all the nonbikers won't have to deal with the harmful health concerns of the secondhand bike collision. I've heard it's packed with even more dangers than bicycling alone.
In the meantime, I'll be reviewing my high school physics book in the workshop.
Write to Logan at lmbraman@bsu.edu