An Afternoon in Innsbruck
November 2001
Innsbruck, Austria
After three days of gloomy gray, a warm November sun shone its glorious rays on the mountain town of Innsbruck, Austria. The world of speed skating descended upon the picturesque city, the second stop of the 2001/02 season. Having passed much of the week locked in self-imposed hotel room captivity, the vibrant sun beckoned three of us to break out and explore ‘Old Innsbruck’. Terry, our massage therapist (the man with the magic hands), teammate Nicole Slot (the linguist we all badger with “What’s this mean?”) and I devoured lunch in anticipation of the adventure.
The hectic flow of the urban machine roared in contrast to the serene alpine vistas as we made our way downtown. A young woman pedaled her bike along the busy street. She was model thin, clothing and make-up immaculate enough to grace the front page of a fashion magazine. Suddenly, this glamorous woman flipped over her handlebars. The rear wheel of her bike arced skyward in sync with her fragile chin smacking the pavement. The city bus following behind screeched to a halt as she lay pinned in a contortion only the most skilled of acrobats would dare attempt. We rushed into the street to help. I picked up the bike as the others gathered purse, torn shopping bag and contents, glasses smashed in two. Watching this beauty queen limp made me cringe as I recalled myriad horrible crashes I had experienced during my ten year span as a racing cyclist. This woman, however, did not seem phased by the obvious pain she was in.
Each painful step in those high heeled boots must have added fuel to the fire of her already swollen knee. Her meticulously made-up face displayed a wound the size and color of a raspberry on its delicate chin. Hair in disarray and looking stunned, she continued to amaze us with her stoic composure. Where as I would have broken down and cried, she rambled on in her second language, English, answering our questions with the grace of a movie star. Leaving us with a friendly “Enjoy your stay in Innsbruck!” she flashed us a bright white smile and we hesitatingly continued downtown.
We were stunned. It took us a few blocks until it felt safe enough to look at one another. When we did, first it was me, then, Terry, and ultimately Nicole, who began to giggle. This turned into hysterical laughter as we recounted the scene. It was horrible, laughing like that, as we felt compassion for the ill-fated commuter. It was the irony of the situation which urged us on. The culprit of the accident, it turned out, was one of the items in the plastic bag she had hanging off her handlebar. The momentum of her pedal stroke caused a pendulum effect, ultimately tearing the flimsy bag, lodging a can of aerosol hairspray between fork and front wheel. The beautifying purchase caused the bike to flip. Thus, what was to maintain that image was to be her demise on that warm, autumn afternoon in Innsbruck.
