The Crash

I sustained some arm injuries after a bike crash – the only blood-drawing crash I remember – in Albuquerque in April. I was riding on a barely lit bike trail along an arroyo, and there was a bump in the pavement followed by a significant drop in elevation. My balance was thrown, my tires didn’t land square, and I skidded along the ground on my right elbow, wrist, and forearm. I made the best of a bad situation by showing off my grotesque road rash to anyone who would look for a few weeks.

Unfortunately, only two months passed before this incident was relegated to my second worse bike crash.

I was on my first ride into work from my new apartment on Monday morning. The route I took was generally similar to the one I’ve been taking for the past four weeks. After riding on bike trails alongside “car” roads, I take a bike-only path through Beatrixpark (as the name suggests, a park) before hitting the road to the university.

There was nothing unusual about the ride on Monday. I went through Beatrixpark, passing a few bikers and being passed by a few others. As I biked along the path, I saw a motorized scooter pull up from a road that intersected the bike path at a 90 degree angle from the right. He was about 40 feet away when I saw him, and I immediately stopped pedaling to make sure he wasn’t going to dart onto the path, and to confirm I didn’t have any yield, slow, or stop signs. He slowed and came to a complete stop and looked left in my direction, and right at a cyclist approaching me from the other direction. Since he’d stopped and seen cross-traffic on the bike path, I continued pedaling at my previous speed.

When I was about 10 feet from the scooter, the driver pulled out onto the bike path, directly in front of me. It was too short of a distance for me to do anything but scream. From what I remember, it was a pretty impressive – if involuntary – scream.

I could describe the impact with two seemingly contradictory clichés – “time stood still,” “and it happened so fast.” On the one hand, the moment leading up to impact seemed like it lasted an eternity. That half second between riding along as normal and realizing that a crash was inevitable was such a stark contrast between the previous twenty calm minutes and the following turbulent, semi-shocked hours that it seemed to occupy far more time than it actually did. On the other hand, the collision and landing happened so quickly that I’m note entirely sure how to describe my trajectory and impact.

But I’ll try.

I don’t know if or how I braced myself for impact. All I remember was screaming and feeling my wheel slam into his scooter. Then I remember being airborne, but I have no idea if I flipped head-over-heels, or if my head always went first, and I simply corkscrewed to land on my back. I do vaguely recall my headphones/mp3 player and glasses ejecting from my head, and I think I remember seeing them crash to the ground before I did.

Someone – the scooter rider, maybe – offered me a hand after I was on the ground for a few moments. I was surprised that I was conscious, that my legs were working, and I that I did not feel the pain of broken bones. I now laugh at myself a bit for my first question after I’d gathered my wits: I asked a pretty girl who was concerned with my well being if she could grab my glasses and mp3 player, both of which were squarely in the middle of the bike trail. She brought them to me, and I was surprised that my frames were whole, and only the right lens was damaged.

The scooter rider took his helmet off and asked me if I was okay about a dozen times. I alternated between saying, “yes,” “maybe,” “I don’t know,” and “give me a minute.” Eventually, I tried flexing my hands and wiggling my toes as a crude test for serious nerve damage, and I did some arm circles and leg stretches to check for broken bones. Everything checked out, though I did have some pain in my upper back and neck.

After a bit, he told me that we should walk to his office and talk about insurance. I was still in a state of semi-shock, and I would have gone along with just about anything anyone told me at this point. He noted that I wouldn’t be able to ride my bike. I didn’t understand at first. He pointed to my front wheel, which was bent to the point that it wouldn’t rotate. I later noticed that the fork was also bent. All-in-all, the crash damage to the bike exceeded the bike’s value. I labored through the mile and a half walk to his office under the humidity and hottest temperatures of the year. I lifted the front part of the bike with one arm and allowed the still functioning back wheel to stay on the ground.

When we got to his office, I found Ed to be a tremendously kind, second-generation Surinamese family man. He repeatedly told me that he wanted to make things right, and that he wanted to cover all damage to me and my bike. He took some pictures, and we filled out an insurance form together. I’m not sure what the end result will be – if I’ll get any money to cover my bike, glasses, mp3 player, and any eventual medical bills – but the effort he put into trying to resolve the situation was a real comfort.

Although I don’t seem to have broken any bones, the discomfort in my neck and back has gotten progressively worse. The pain has been distractingly intense at times. I have very limited range of motion in the neck, and I am having a little difficulty taking deep breaths. I believe these are all typical symptoms of whiplash.

But regardless of how exactly I landed or what specific injuries I sustained, I am guessing that I am tremendously lucky to have walked away as I did. A face plant could have destroyed all of my teeth; landing on my head could have broken my neck; landing on my arm could have resulted in a compound fracture; landing wrong on a leg, hip, or shoulder could have broken any number of bones. Many landing positions could have been paralyzing or fatal.

The critical reader might be asking: “why didn’t you go to the doctor???” Two main reasons. First, largely due to the slowness in getting my social security number, bank account, residency permit, etc., I do not yet have health insurance. Since I didn’t seem to require care urgently, I decided to not undergo the hassle of dealing with a foreign medical system without insurance. Second, I was fairly certain that the doctor would simply suggest rest and pain killers. I’ve been able to take care of both of these things myself.

The timing could have been better. I leave for a conference in Montpellier, France 48 hours after the crash. It’s somewhat reminiscent of injuring my ankle badly enough that it couldn’t sustain weight 48 hours before going to Oaxaca for Paul and Annie’s wedding. Hopefully my brain will start working properly again soon so I can write and practice the talk I’ll be giving.

The Apartment

After 35 days of essentially living out of a suitcase in a bed and breakfast and hotel and on a friend’s couch, I’ve been given keys to my new apartment.

Retrospectively, I think I was a little charmed in finding the place I did. I only looked at three apartments before this one, and they were 1250, 1600, and 1500 euros per month. This one was 1100 euros, and it didn’t feel any worse than the others, so I grabbed it. I felt a bit of ambivalence, since it was still two and a half times what I paid in the U.S., and it would be the smallest space I’d lived in since the dorms at ASU. Plus it was a bit tough to get a picture of how nice (or not nice) it was during my visit, since the previous tenants were still living there, and they hadn’t prepared the apartment for a walkthrough. They’d set it up so that their bed was in the living room, and the bedroom was actually a “bunny room.” But, overall, it seemed like it might be the best deal I was going to see.

This ambivalence dissolved when I got the keys to the cleaned apartment. It was still small and expensive, but it felt like a home the second I walked in.

The view from the street - I'm on the fourth floor, with the slightly open window.

It has a living room/dining room that faces east and gets lots of natural light from the three large windows that cover a large portion of the east wall. The landlord had a TV and dining table that she included in the apartment. The apartment is only a five minute bike ride from the central part of Amsterdam, but it’s tucked away on a quiet little street.

The view from the living room window.

The kitchen is small, but it will work. I bought a cast iron wok, a cutting board, a stainless steel pan, a rice cooker, and an electric tea kettle (along with some oolong and gun powder green tea) to round things out.

Both the kitchen and bedroom have large glass windows/doors to a patio that faces the apartments to the west, with the ground floor apartment yards below. It’s quite nice on the patio this time of year; there are lots of birds singing and people mending their gardens.

The apartment came with two twin beds that can be fit together to make a king. I had a mini shopping spree at a bedroom store yesterday and bought a device to keep them from spreading apart, a mattress pad, a down comforter, two pillows, and sheets.

The apartment is about a sixty second walk from east of the east bank of the Amstel river, and less than a five minute walk from a bridge.

Facing south on a bridge over the Amstel river.

So, overall I’m thrilled. Dutch housing is very different from U.S. housing (at least in the suburbs and cities like Phoenix and Albuquerque). My apartment building has five stories, with each apartment fairly small and sharing walls, floors, and ceilings with other apartments. But, from all of the apartments I’ve seen, there’s plenty of quality in the construction, maintenance, and, well, beauty, to make up for the lack of quantity.

Gulden Draak

Sadly, American style IPAs have not caught on in the Netherlands (and, I would guess, Europe in general). There are British IPAs, which I loathe, and Belgian IPAs, which (based on my one taste) are much more similar to British IPAs than American IPAs.

On the bright side, I'm pretty close to Belgium, which produces some of the world's best beers. And, as one might expect, they're quite a bit less expensive than in the U.S. I got this 11.2oz Gulden Draak for 1.60 euros; it's listed as $4.69 at BevMo. I also got a 11.2oz Chimay Blue for 1.50 euros; it's listed as $5.59 on BevMo.

So, Gulden Draak (golden dragon in Dutch). It's a 10.5% ABV dark tripple ale. Wikipedia tells me that it was crowned "best beer in the world" by ChefsBest in 1998. I'd believe it. I accidentally served it too cold, and I initially missed out on a lot of the flavor. It really opened up once it warmed up, though. I caught some hints of apple brandy. Wikipedia tells me that it hints of sour cherries. I'll trust them.

Racing Bike

When I decided to move to Amsterdam, I thought I’d ship my clothing, my bike, a few pieces of kitchen equipment that I really liked (my wok, cutting board, and knives), and my extremely comfortable bed. I soon decided against shipping the bed – it would just be too much of a hassle to transport to an apartment once it arrived via freight. Then I decided that the kitchen equipment could be replaced at a cheaper price than I would have paid for shipping it. Finally, I decided to sell my bike instead of shipping it. In the end, I only brought clothing and a few other items. Everything else I owned was donated or sold.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss many of my old things, especially my bed, my pint glasses, my plants, and (if she can be considered a “thing”) my cat. But the only thing I regret leaving behind at this point is the bike. But I realize now that the hassle and price of shipping it over would probably have been worth how much enjoyment I’d get out of having it here.

Naturally, I wouldn’t be able to ride it to work and back, or around the city. Theft is too much of a threat, especially if your bike is the nicest within a half mile, and road bike tires aren’t optimal for some of the rough and slick roads in the city, nor are they great for crossing the tram tracks. That said, it would be great for the occasional weekend rides that I’d like to take to cities around the Netherlands.

But the bike is about 5000 miles away, so I’ve had to seek alternatives. Instead of buying new or getting something used on marktplaats (a local craigslist/ebay hybrid), I decided to ask the owner of “recycled bicycles” to build me a road bike. This guy builds “new” bikes from existing frames and refurbished parts or new parts. I gave him a budget, and he said he’d build me a racing bike (they call them "racing" bikes here rather than road bikes).

He emailed me yesterday after working on it for a couple of weeks. I went to check it out, and I was initially a little disappointed, since I was comparing it to my former bike. It’s definitely more basic than my old bike. Brake handles are only on the drop handlebars, and shifters are just below the stem rather than on the handlebars. That said, he repainted an old frame and added a bunch of brand new components, including tires, a chain, and both derailleurs.

So we’ll see how it works out when I take my first ride to Haarlem (~15 miles) soon. Maybe I’ll love the bike and the ride. Maybe I’ll decide that I don’t have the time or desire to do weekend rides all that often. Rr maybe I’ll love the ride enough that I decide to upgrade.

Muiderslot

Today was the second major Dutch religious holiday since I arrived here. The first was “Ascension Day,” which marks the day that Jesus ascended to Heaven. Not quite sure why that’s not a bigger deal in the U.S.; seems like it would be in the ballpark of importance with Christmas (birth) and Easter (reanimation). Today was White Monday, and most of the country had a holiday. I wasn’t able to get a clear idea of what this holiday celebrates after a brief Wikipedia reading. But, hey, it’s a holiday. Even if about 40% of the country identify as non-religious.

I joined an expat “adventure” group I’m a part of for a bike ride to Muiderslot Castle, which had some special events since today is also a “castleday”. The castle was about eight miles from Amsterdam, in a little village.

I was a little surprised that there is a Dutch castle so close to Amsterdam. When I think of the Dutch, I picture non-violence and egalitarianism, neither of which fit neatly with castles.

The castle itself was smaller than those I visited in the Loire Valley in France, the Alps in Germany, and Himeji in Japan, but it had the charm of a castle. There was genuine moat, a little area for gardening, and the claustrophobic, steep stair cases that always make me a bit uncomfortable.

This castleday was somewhat oriented toward children. I caught two weapon demonstrations. The first involved an armored knight chasing dozens of children around with a fake sword. The second involved two men (probably the same guys in the armor from earlier) demonstrating actual sword, axe, knife, and poleax fighting techniques.

Biking

A Dutch woman asked me what Americans think of the Dutch. I told her that most Americans probably had never heard of the Netherlands – after all, some infamous surveys in the early Aughts suggested that 10% of Americans couldn’t locate Texas on a map, and only about 15% of Americans could identify Iraq. But then I realized that there are a few things Dutch that Americans are probably aware of. Clogs, windmills, the fact that the Pilgrims settled here for a bit before making it across the ocean, and the quasi-legality of prostitution and marijuana. But I’m doubtful that many people in the U.S. have much of an idea of what everyday Dutch life is like, or what social life is like in the Netherlands.

I’m guessing that a random person transported from Alabama to Amsterdam would find the bicycling norms here much more remarkable than the marijuana. Given the compact nature of the country (about the size of New Jersey, with one of the highest population densities in the world) and its relatively flat landscape, the Dutch government decided to invest heavily in bicycle infrastructure in the past. Most large streets have a small two land road for cars, a bicycle “lane” that is really a separate road on either side of the street, and a sidewalk for pedestrians. Cars generally yield to bicycles at all times, and I’ve heard that a driver will always be cited for a collision with a bicycle, even if the cyclist was clearly at fault.

Because it’s expensive, frustrating, and generally inconvenient to drive in the city, most people in Amsterdam get around by bike. This creates an interesting semi-organized chaos during “rush hour” at the beginning and end of work hours. This video was shot by someone in Utrecht, which is about 20 miles outside of Amsterdam.

Things pick up around the one minute mark.

Outside of transporting large objects like furniture, people seem to use their bikes for every possible type of trip. It’s very normal for people here, but it can seem a little odd coming from the U.S. People haul their dogs, children, and groceries on their handlebars, small platforms on the back of the bikes, or large baskets. Every level of society is represented on the bike paths; there are businessmen dressed in suits, children as young as eight and adults as old as 80, tourists, natives, and immigrants, and an equal number of male and female riders.

I thought it would be fun to walk around town today and take pictures of people riding their bikes in Amsterdam to share with friends and family in the U.S. These were taken on a Sunday, so there were fewer people out than during a weekday, and fewer bikers in business suits. But I still got a nice variety of riders. Most of these were taken in the Vondelpark, the largest park in the city.

Dutch cyclists usually signal by simply pointing in the direction they'll be turning

This is a collapsing bike that people can fold up and carry on a train and then use in the city.

Not sure if these two are an item, or just good friends.

Even for Amsterdam, this is a pretty small car.

I'm guessing this is a family riding together.

People often text and talk on their phones while riding, but I didn't get any pictures of people on cell phones. I did get this shot of a guy eating while riding.

Several bicycle taxis were advertising the torture museum.

Most Dutch bikes have two locks: one that is attached to the bike and passes a metal bolt between the spokes when parks, and a larger chain lock to attach to bike racks or posts.

This Giant has seen better days.

My bike (the one with the blue chain).

Most Dutch bikes have only one gear and are built to deal with rain, collisions, and potential theft. You do see road bikes occasionally, though they're usually stored inside homes to protect them from theft and the elements.

This dog doesn't look thrilled.

Rental bikes are popular among tourists. You can instantly tell that someone on one of these bikes is a foreigner.

This girl was hitching a ride with her friend, who was on a scooter.