The adrenaline has just started to subside so now I can relate this morning's fun.
My usual commute takes me up Picadilly, Shaftesbury Avenue then onto Bloomsbury Way, across Southampton Row into Theobald's Road and Clerkenwell Road and then Old Street to the office in Shoreditch. This morning I was at the junction of Bloomsbury Way and Southampton row where the inside lane is a filter to turn left and the lanes next to it are for straight on. As I was going straight on I was in a reasonable secondary position at the front of the second lane.
You know how sometimes you get that second sense that a car might be about to do something stupid? In this case it was a silver london cab in the left hand filter who decided to go straight on as the lights went green and cut across me (without indicating) from left to right. As he passed I shouted out "You were in the wrong lane", after which he gave me the middle finger and slowed, forcing me to brake hard and then cut sharp right, knocking my front wheel and leaving me toppled over in a heap in the middle of the road.
Of course, adrenaline took over and I was straight back on the bike (which is, I know, the daftest thing to do) and hared off to try and grab him, or at least get the cab number. The cab had actually pulled in further up the road before some lights (dunno what for, maybe to see if I actually got up) and as I got close to him to remonstrate he was kind enough to spit at me through the driver's side window.
Damage is one torn leg warmer and a scuffed knee (hurts horribly now, didn't at the time) plus a scuffs to a glove and a Speedplay pedal. Worth reporting to the police? The local nick is just down the road from the office, and I do have the plate number of the cab... on the other there were no obvious witnesses (no one stopped, no other cyclists around that early) and it's my word against his.
EC
My usual commute takes me up Picadilly, Shaftesbury Avenue then onto Bloomsbury Way, across Southampton Row into Theobald's Road and Clerkenwell Road and then Old Street to the office in Shoreditch. This morning I was at the junction of Bloomsbury Way and Southampton row where the inside lane is a filter to turn left and the lanes next to it are for straight on. As I was going straight on I was in a reasonable secondary position at the front of the second lane.
You know how sometimes you get that second sense that a car might be about to do something stupid? In this case it was a silver london cab in the left hand filter who decided to go straight on as the lights went green and cut across me (without indicating) from left to right. As he passed I shouted out "You were in the wrong lane", after which he gave me the middle finger and slowed, forcing me to brake hard and then cut sharp right, knocking my front wheel and leaving me toppled over in a heap in the middle of the road.
Of course, adrenaline took over and I was straight back on the bike (which is, I know, the daftest thing to do) and hared off to try and grab him, or at least get the cab number. The cab had actually pulled in further up the road before some lights (dunno what for, maybe to see if I actually got up) and as I got close to him to remonstrate he was kind enough to spit at me through the driver's side window.
Damage is one torn leg warmer and a scuffed knee (hurts horribly now, didn't at the time) plus a scuffs to a glove and a Speedplay pedal. Worth reporting to the police? The local nick is just down the road from the office, and I do have the plate number of the cab... on the other there were no obvious witnesses (no one stopped, no other cyclists around that early) and it's my word against his.
EC