Last week, while walking along Oak Lawn toward Maple Avenue, I approached a pile of gravel on the sidewalk. It wasn’t menacing in appearance. I was wearing my Old Skool Vans, the same pair I used to climb the trail of the Fjaðrárgljúfur canyon in south Iceland last month. A small pile of rocks was no obstacle for me.
Well, the rocks were actually very unstable and, about three steps in, they started to move and I started to slide, and the next thing I knew I was facedown on the sidewalk. People sitting at the stoplight in their cars definitely saw this happen. I was so embarrassed that I ran behind the Scottish Rite Hospital sign to assess the damage: two holes in my skinny jeans, and a bloody left knee. Could be worse.
I returned to the scene today to snap a photo. The gravel is gone, but there were about five dudes in hardhats digging up the sidewalk. The right turn lane is also closed, which you may think is a good thing considering you don’t have a sidewalk to walk on. But you’d be wrong: the equipment blocks the lane, too, which forces pedestrians into traffic.
Anyway. Pretty sure I’m going to have a scar on my knee. It kind of looks like the state of Utah. Let me know if you’d like to see it.
