Alternative headlines: “On Speed” - “How to survive a car-crash while still looking cool” - “Quod erat demonstrandum” - “Contre la montre”First of all, everything you´ll read about was well prepared and exactly planned. For example, I spent two nights on testing. You must understand, that I am not jeopardising anyone.
Everything is under control.
"The real sweet spot of being a bicyclist in Germany is that not only traffic laws are officially not applicable to you, but also that you get "built-in moral high grounds" as soon as you get up on that bike. German people love feeling superior to others *and* act aggressively at the same time, and nowadays the best way to divulge in both activities is riding a bike around a major German city. Mind you, German cities were not made for traveling through them on a bike, so it is mandatory to always pull an annoyed, reproachful face when on a bike. After all, you are a very zany, quirky, interesting, small-carbon-footprint individual busy saving the planet, while those proto-fascist car drivers and Fussgangers are only out there to block your way."
I live in South-Central L.E.
Here we have some special kind of “
green wave”: whenever you see a traffic light, it will be red. A Taxi-driver once told me, that, to hit the “
green wave”, one has to drive 100km/h. Nice. So, when I want to visit a friend, living on the other side of the center, I have to cross 14 traffic-lights which all are red. Furthermore, there are some (8) tram-ways, without any sign. So crossing the town fast is kind of tricky. Props to the Transport Planning Office.
Two weeks ago, police forced me to contribute to their retirement fund by ripping me off, only because I drove
real slowly over the downtown promenade. Now I know between 11am and 10pm that´s forbidden. They even told me that, if I hit one of them creepy pedestrians it´s a felony! Pedestrians! Even more worthless than… than… than puppies! Always standing in my way and always getting mad at me. “Madness” is also an attribute of every single car driver. They are always misjudging my speed, parking on the bicycle lane. They don´t take me serious! I hate them.
When I want to go to this particular friend, it takes me about 15 minutes, considering I obey all the rules. Last time, I counted. Twenty-eight times I had to use my brake: red lights, women in cars, old people in cars, women with buggies, gimps. In an equitable world, all these people should go to prison, or at least out of my way. I am really fed up! It´s time for change.
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During my planning stage, I tried to take all variables in account. The more of them I could eliminate, the less dangerous it will be. I checked when there is the least traffic. I checked the tram´s timetable. I spent almost an hour to inspect the ground: where does it slow me down, where is it fast, where are some tramway tracks (my old archenemy). How fast can I take the turns? How long does it take me from one traffic refuge to another…? During the nights, I gave it a trial. Ten times each, just to find the perfect line. I even tested several tyre pressures.
(In letzter Zeit schieb ich immer übers Vorderrad, kommt bestimmt vom vielen PumpTrack-Training. Ist halt zuviel Druck auf der Vorderhand, ich fahr daher 2,5 Bar vorn, hab aber die Gabel entsprechend härter abgestimmt.)So, take it from me: I was perfectly prepared.
My experience in the general area of racing tells me, that warm-up and stretching prevent injuries and make one faster. After weeks of ongoing soberness, I thought about a drink to become more brave/stupid. But, that would have been derogatory to my vital needs of prompt reaction.
(<<< by the way, nice sentence)I have some kind of little switch. Whenever I am on a bike, it flips. The blood now is pumping through my legs rather than my brain. Cars become obstacles, motorcycles competitors, pedestrians mutate to slalom posts.
11.07 am. I´m calling the already mentioned mate of mine, so he can keep his door open, just in case (police). Right on schedule, I start my little race. My opponent is just that insignificant little
thing, physicists call “time”.
The first traffic-light is kind of a starting signal, if I hit it switched to red, I hit the “
green wave”. The following crossing is almost perfect: smooth, fast roll in, separate lane for bicycles, traffic refuge and – of course – it´s red. The L.E. kind of red, means all lights are red. I just have to find a gap between the different lanes of standing cars. For cars, the next crossroads are tricky ones. They have to slow down. In reverse
I can pass it at full speed, spite of these bumpy tramway tracks. Some red lights later, I have to cross the so called “Innenstadtring”: three lanes, two tramways, and another three lanes. But this one is easy, because it´s new built and I am used to it. Afterwards there is kind of blind spot, where usually well situated import-Lipsians in BMWs or Porsches try to hit pedestrians. Their cars have state-of-the art brakes, and I hope they don´t want me to scratch the paintjob with my
disintegrating bones. And in fact, a Volvo brakes hard. The driver is honking like he´s gone mad. Never mind, because now it´s going to be
really interesting. Until now I did not have to touch my brake levers, but I need a little rest from more or less constantly pumping.
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Stage two: Fußgänger-Slalom.
The center of L.E. is plastered with shops, stores, malls. And I am going to take the
direct way. That is the more demanding part of my little racetrack – being way more technic. In front of me, there is a broad car-free zone stuffed with old people, mothers with children, unemployed shopping addicts… In short: the scum of the earth.
I know, if I hit one of them, I will stay on bike – sure, no doubt about that. But it would cost me crucial seconds. Pedestrians are like a less fluffy version of lemmings, they all act predictable - if they
don´t take notice of one. If these unworthy lowlifes once have spotted me, their faces will turn to a grotesque grimace and they will stay right where they are. That could be a problem. I take their direction and their speed in account, to find a gap between these unfurry animals. This only works, if they keep walking. Some of these mobile obstacles (in 9 out of ten cases it´s a dyspeptic grandma) must ruin my run by staring at me and cease moving. Most of them I passed by accelerating, but one of these wrinkly witches forced me to brake!
Revenge, thy name be überteuerte Heizdecke!At this moment I thought, it might have been a probably smart move to wear my full-face helmet. Not to prevent my skull from abruptly getting a new shape, but to protect my handsome countenance from the all-over-town video-surveillance. These cameras are a serious issue, concerning my next stage: Main Station.
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Stage one: red traffic lights taken at full speed. Stage two: pedestrians and maximum (possible) speed. Stage three: a blend of both former stages with an increasing level of difficulty.
If another German person on a bike sees you pass a red light, he or she immediately will want to have children with you.
In their infinite wisdom the Transport Planning office designed the forecourt of the Main Station in a way that crossing it at a reasonable speed is
absolutely impossible.
First of all, creation´s crowning glory and pedestrians have to use the same small lane. Just for the fun of it, they bordered it with solid steel-guardrails, so there is
no space to draw aside. Next, you have to cross four tramway lanes, also used by busses. With neither warning nor traffic lights. You need to know that the average lipsianesian conductor is kind of a zombie, only that the smell is even worse and zombies don´t ring a warning bell instead of using the tram´s brake. Right after the tracks, there are three more car lanes. Did I mention that drivers on this part of the inner city circuit go by at least 70 km/h? Why the hell do they act so irresponsible? Don´t they know how dangerous their stupid behavior is?
I am a self-confessed adrenaline fiend. And I knew
THIS crossing would be critical. If you are into stoichiometry you can calculate the chance to
NOT get hurt. But in fact, that doesn´t matter. There are only two alternatives: either to cross the first street or getting seriously bad, bad, I mean really bad, hurt. The odds were fifty-fifty. The fact you can (already) enjoy this text shows that I made it. But damn, this was a
close one! I felt the air draft from the second car! The pedestrians jumped by side, seeing me coming.
That´s why I spent so much time on preparation, I knew if I hit the “
green wave” on the one side of the inner city circuit, and not to be held up in the pedestrian zone, I would be able to hit this “
green wave” in front of the Main Station, when most of the cars already drove through. What remained was just gambling. I already mentioned that I studied the time table of the different lines. So, in hope of in-time arrivals, I could be sure to cross the tracks without getting hit by a tram. The second street was no big deal, due to there are two traffic lights in 200m distance and hence my light was red, the cars were also held up by the other one. (Or dare I say, by the unquestioned believe in the entity of traffic lights?)
The forecourt of the L.E. Main Station is plastered with some ugly and smooth stone plates, even when it´s dry, these are pretty slippery. So I did a powerslide to get the 90° turn. Yeah, powerslides are so eighties! I didn´t mind the bare-of-any-kind-of-transportation-device people. These crossroads gave me the hell of an adrenaline-rush. But I know, in a bright moment of
absolute mind clearness (and paranoia) from now on, it´ll be a chase.
The crossing which came up next, was easy going, small one-way streets, a tramway stop. Nothing big. Like the other upcoming crossings. Vast, with refuges, and of course with twinkling red lights all over it. Though, I was already on the home straight, just a few more hundred meters to beat the clock. I was far beyond the anaerobic threshold, lactate was already burning in my veins. Fortunately I was still on adrenaline, when I paced along the final meters.
Quick, quick! Vanishing behind a massive wooden door. Six minutes, seventeen seconds. System: love, me: one - with nine minutes in advance. Just by jumping red lights, driving like mad, and putting myself and others into danger.
I was so exhausted, I couldn´t even talk (hard to imagine!). Sweating
through my soles. My legs were burning like hell. So high on my most favourite drug, I was not able to keep my hands easy for minutes. Adrenaline – just the chemical expression for surviving one´s own stupidity.
I could have done it blindfolded. The result would have been exactly the same. But then, I had to miss the terrified expressions on people´s faces, the honking drivers and mad yelling. Yet to appease the small-minded critics, those who are not willing to appreciate this masterpiece: No animals had to suffer. Nobody got hurt. Nothing broke, and nobody forced me to pay a fine. So, nothing has changed, it´s all in the same state as before. Maybe, what I´ve done is some kind of art performance, by reason of its absolute lack of sense. In other ways, it has been a total disregard and violation of German traffic regulations.
I think, it was just a bad idea - stupid, but perfectly realized.
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Epilogue
The other day, absolutely aware of my new state of immortality, I crashed. I “
fell” down a 10cm curb; I tried not to go down for about 10m. My despaired attempt must have looked hilarious. But in the end my bike stopped at a traffic-sign post and I hit the ground. My bike is fine, thanks for asking.
After all, it seems I am still human…
