Hard Lessons

Last week, we received word that Richard Nicodemus was stuck and killed by a truck on a rural road east of Orangeville.

After his retirement from Kelly-Springfield tire company, Richard was smitten by the bicycle bug and became the aerodynamic recumbent protege of Tyger Johnson.

Richard was a soft spoken rider and always in a delightful place while he rode.

It is hard enough when fellow riders crash and are seriously injured as was Chuck Garrett last summer. Loose gravel on pavement at the bottom of a hill was Chuck’s demise.

At Richard's visitation, Chuck told me that while his wife, Janis, was in for knee surgery, Richard visited with Chuck as he was recovering in the room across the hall. That was Richard exactly.

Fellow rider Paul Heitz was sideswiped on Pearl City Road a few years ago, gravely hurt and very nearly dispatch from this earth. Bones were broken and a lung punctured. Paul was laid up in hospital but today is back on the road as active as ever.

Adam Schultz was returning home on Park Boulevard when a careless person blew the stop sign at Park and Empire and threw him up on her windshield. She had no insurance and little remorse. I guess Adam made her late for an elective college class. Adam’s surgical repairs are ongoing.

Peter Flynn was struck from behind in broad daylight by an elderly lady. She was so distraught that she nearly backed over him. Later, Eric Walser said the same lady brushed him, whereupon he chased her down and gave her a severe tongue lashing.

These close encounters are terribly unsettling but death is too final, and the only person who can say what really happened is the driver of the truck which killed Richard. He is Peggy’s neighbor and is taking it quite hard and will most likely live in a dark place for the rest of his days.

Riding bicycles can pose hard lessons. It is easy to lose our focus for self preservation as we drift into riders’ rhapsody. So our joy of riding begs a certain amount of circumspection.

I write this in the company of jazz pianist, Bill Evans, playing his “Re: Person I Knew.” It is thoughtfully haunting-- typical of Bill’s compositions.