Member-only story
If a Tree Falls in the Woods
A bike trail, a freak accident, and the arithmetic of fate
A tree blocked the path. This was no surprise; after a windy storm, the Washington Secondary Bike Trail is usually strewn with debris.
But this was a tree. The foliage was voluminous and green. The trunk still looked healthy — except that it was horizontal, barricading the whole trail.
Well, not the whole trail. Recent travelers had blazed a little track on one side. If you pedaled carefully, you could slip between the fallen tree and the woods. Which is exactly what I had done a half-hour earlier.
Now I was returning in the opposite direction. A simple there-and-back. Twenty miles in total. The trail that had previously been a gradual climb was now a refreshing descent. Gravity guided me down the asphalt, and I coasted toward the tree. The pavement along this stretch is ribbed with roots, but otherwise it’s blissful riding.
A second cyclist flew past me. He wore a Lycra suit and he leaned into his drop-bars. Again, perfectly normal; the Washington Secondary is less trafficked than other Rhode Island trails, so it’s not bad for race training. I said hello. The racer nodded back. And that’s the last I expected to see of him before he careened around the bend and disappeared forever.
