I ride on Place D'Youville and arrived near the intersection McGill when a cyclist turns into a disaster at me forcing me to jump on the brakes to avoid hitting him. The bike continues its journey in the way as if nothing had happened. I stopped a few seconds remaining in the company of a passenger just as amazed as me. A little later I go down fairly quickly Saint-Hubert to the south where at one corner of Cherrier bixiste pass on his red a few meters in front of me. That one gave me a big desire to get to him to ask what price is worth his life.
Not a single week, not a single evening would take place without that I spend almost hit by one. How many times, it took me steer dangerously to avoid a cyclist coming out of a street or another does not comply with a stop or a light. The way they use their head, I wonder why some of them wear helmets.
I already hear the grumbling against taxi drivers in the city. I do not want from controversy, I myself have spent part of last month to get my pedal Malibu. I also bit the bullet and dropped a few insults towards reckless motorists. I also have taken risks to pass a bus m'empestant air or take a light about to change.
Like what, a medal always has two sides and when you find yourself an edge, necessarily, one has to see the misery of another.
As far as cyclists are not too inclined on reflection, as there are taxi drivers who can not see beyond their hood.
My friend Luke could tell you. Last week, he was picked up by an A-11 that was allegedly never seen. Three broken ribs, a pneumothorax and a hell of a lot of bruises. The taxi driver when he saw that he was recovering, he did not ask his rest and went. A fine case of hit and run on me.
It has a few weeks away recover. Tonight I am going to bring her reading, worse tapocher me with a couple.
J'ne not know yet if I will go by bike or taxi ...
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