I’d just left home; the house I grew up in; to ride my bike; an actual bicycle; which I hadn’t done in a long time. I don’t know what made me want to do it that night, but it was late like between 10 PM and midnight; a dangerous time in the city of Detroit.
Violent crime wasn’t my main concern though. I was more worried about the fact that, for some reason, I had trouble using the brakes. I mean they worked fine as far as I knew, but there took a tremendous physical or mental effort for me to actually use them.
I was headed north toward East McNichols, better known as Six Mile, at a high rate of speed. There was basically no traffic except for a car or truck here and there, but I feared one would blindside me, so I turned right instead of crossing the road in order to slow down.
There was a huge pile of what looked like white sand on an inactive construction site. I rode my speeding bike up it until it gradually came to a stop. Then I looked both ways and crossed Six Mile to what I thought was Joseph Campau, but it looked weird.
The sign said “NO OUTLET”, which didn’t make sense. That’s when I remembered I’d actually ridden away from Joseph Campau in order to reach the sand pile. So I used another one; a less steep one across the road from the first one; in order to slow down again.
Then I rode back to Joseph Campau and turned right on it. Now I was headed back north as if I was going to that (Merchant/Merchants) grocery store I used to walk to on Seven Mile or Pershing High School; areas I normally wouldn’t be visiting this late at night.
I was contemplating whether or not to go back home. I wanted to ride my bike despite it being a crime-ridden neighborhood; a thug or few I could probably fight off or evade; but it seemed my inability to use the brakes properly was going to end up killing me.
2026 July 03