Summary

The content describes the emotional aftermath of a cyclist's death due to distracted driving and the impact on his family, particularly his widow.

Abstract

The web content is a poignant recounting of the author's experience upon seeing her late husband's bike, which was mangled in a collision caused by a driver under the influence of methamphetamine. The author reflects on her husband's dedication to cycling and fitness, emphasizing the irony and injustice of his death while engaging in an activity that was central to his life. Through the examination of personal items recovered from the accident, including the damaged bike, a water bottle, and a reflector, the author grapples with the loss and calls for awareness and action to prevent further tragedies from distracted driving. The bike, now painted white, serves as a memorial and a symbol in the fight against impaired driving.

Opinions

The author believes that the death of her husband, Patrick, due to distracted driving was preventable and deeply unfair.
Patrick's dedication to fitness and cycling is highlighted as a significant part of his identity, which makes his death while cycling particularly tragic.
The author expresses frustration with the lack of clear legal definitions for drug impairment, particularly regarding methamphetamine use while driving.
There is an appeal to the audience to refrain from driving under the influence of alcohol, drugs, or when overly tired, suggesting alternatives such as ride-sharing services or calling a friend.
The author intends to use the image of Patrick's damaged bike to raise awareness about the dangers of distracted driving.
The author values the memory of her husband and the lives of others, urging drivers to focus on the road and avoid distractions to prevent similar incidents.

This is Distracted Driving

A reminder of my husband’s last bike ride.

I held my breath as my brother, Denny, opened the back of his SUV. He had told me that it wasn’t as bad as he expected, but I was still apprehensive.

Suddenly, there it was, the bike that Patrick had owned for most of our marriage. The bike that he rode through all kinds of weather. To work, for exercise, towing a bike trailer to pick up the girls from daycare. So many years. So many miles.

My husband seriously had the body of a Greek god. He was a fanatic about working out. I never noticed a bit of fat on him, not even a beer belly, though he definitely would have earned that.

Patrick was a faithful Catholic but working out was his second religion. I know I’m repeating myself, but I can’t tell you how ironic it is that he died while working out. Ironic and unfair. And so, preventable.

The front half of the bike looks the same to me. Well-worn but unmistakably Patrick’s. I notice the seat and laugh. No self-respecting cyclist would put their rear on that saddle! But Patrick was the anti-cyclist. He didn’t need all of that fancy stuff—just two wheels, pedals, and maybe some gears.

In cycling circles, his ride would be referred to as a “beater bike.” He occasionally hijacked some of my gear, like the expensive headlight with the external battery that didn’t survive or wasn’t found after the collision.

The rear wheel looks like an accordion. Exactly what you would expect when a car runs into it. I stare at it for a minute and then turn to bury my head in Denny’s shoulder.

There are also three envelopes, all marked with evidence tape. I open the envelope with the phone first. I take it out, and it doesn’t look familiar. I’m surprised that it’s unfamiliar, then I see Verizon, and I realize it’s not his phone! In the same instance, I know whose phone it is. I quickly stuff it back in the envelope. Hopefully, they still have Patrick’s phone.

The second envelope is a water bottle. I wondered which bottle Patrick had taken, but I never took inventory. I suspected it would be one of mine, and it was a bottle from America’s Most Beautiful Bike Ride at Lake Tahoe.

The last envelope was a part of his reflector that didn’t look at all familiar, just a random item you might see on the side of the road.

Denny takes pictures of the bike and sends them to me later. I will add them to this blog after I’ve had a chance to warn people. There is an illusion of a regular bike in one picture since the tire has retained its shape outside of the twisted wheel.

I comment on this to Denny and he says “rubber holds its shape, like a memory of what it should still look like”.

This bicycle is the result of distracted driving. It doesn’t matter what the distraction is. When you are distracted enough to run into a person on a bike or walking down the street or riding in a car, it doesn’t matter what distracted you.

The driver who hit Patrick did not have alcohol in his system. He had meth in his system, but no one seems to know how much meth is too much. How much meth does it take to make you impaired?

According to California, there is no clear definition of drug impairment. I don’t think you should drive when any substance impairs you. Maybe someday the law will agree.

I firmly believe that meth and other activities interfered with this driver’s sleep, and ultimately he fell asleep at the wheel, which is also distracted driving.

So, do me a favor, in memory of Patrick and the countless individuals who lose their lives every year, if you are too drunk, high, or sleepy to drive, get an Uber or Lyft.

Call a friend.

Walk home.

Do NOT get behind the wheel.

And when you do, put your phone down and pay attention to the road. Don’t make someone else experience this.

We are hoping to use his bike's image to spread awareness about all kinds of distracted driving. Stay tuned.

Update: Patrick’s bike was painted white and dedicated to the memory of Patrick and other cyclists during the Fresno Ride of Silence on May 15, 2019. I was blessed to have my brother, Denny Boyles, speak on my behalf.

Originally published at https://www.danellt9.com on July 3, 2018.