ibikenz
Chocolate Starfish Moment in Suburban Auckland
Riding home from work tonight I stopped to prepare my camera for this shot. I set the focus (and exposure) manually as it's not an SLR and doesn't autofocus reliably in near-darkness.
With cold numb fingers I'm fiddling with the tiny pixie-buttons and I can hear this infernal screeching and scraping sound approaching from around a blind corner. It sounds like the Devil himself dragging the gates of hell down the road behind his fiery chariot. At full crescendo the chariot in question lurches around the bend, one headlight blazing and heading straight towards me. The corner of the car where the other headlight once resided is completely obliterated and large sections of bodywork are hanging down beside (and to some extent under) the vehicle.
It's a "boy-racer" car of some sort and for a split second I consider taking a photo to capture the number plate as they've obviously just hit something. Split second number two has me deciding that would be a very bad idea as I've had several run-ins with such yobs cycling at night and would prefer to get home with my body, and most importantly my camera intact.
Tensed-up, adrenaline pumping furiously, I'm preparing for the worst but they drive straight past.
I continue on my way, snapping photos along the bike-path but a few minutes later another boy-racer approaches and this time they slow to a stop beside me.
It's a populated area, but the middle of the frigg'n night and there's no-one else around for miles. My brain's calculating the flee-fight-or scream like a little girl-equation as the window buzzes down and I'm face-to-face with my foe.
"Did you see that?", a young asian guy asks with a big grin spread across his face.
"The car scraping on the ground? Yeah I saw it, but I didn't get the number plate. Wonder what they hit?"
He seems satisfied with my reply and they continue on their way to my great relief.
I pack away my camera and head for home, heart-beat slowing and chocolate starfish returning to it's normal relaxed state.
Chocolate Starfish Moment in Suburban Auckland
Riding home from work tonight I stopped to prepare my camera for this shot. I set the focus (and exposure) manually as it's not an SLR and doesn't autofocus reliably in near-darkness.
With cold numb fingers I'm fiddling with the tiny pixie-buttons and I can hear this infernal screeching and scraping sound approaching from around a blind corner. It sounds like the Devil himself dragging the gates of hell down the road behind his fiery chariot. At full crescendo the chariot in question lurches around the bend, one headlight blazing and heading straight towards me. The corner of the car where the other headlight once resided is completely obliterated and large sections of bodywork are hanging down beside (and to some extent under) the vehicle.
It's a "boy-racer" car of some sort and for a split second I consider taking a photo to capture the number plate as they've obviously just hit something. Split second number two has me deciding that would be a very bad idea as I've had several run-ins with such yobs cycling at night and would prefer to get home with my body, and most importantly my camera intact.
Tensed-up, adrenaline pumping furiously, I'm preparing for the worst but they drive straight past.
I continue on my way, snapping photos along the bike-path but a few minutes later another boy-racer approaches and this time they slow to a stop beside me.
It's a populated area, but the middle of the frigg'n night and there's no-one else around for miles. My brain's calculating the flee-fight-or scream like a little girl-equation as the window buzzes down and I'm face-to-face with my foe.
"Did you see that?", a young asian guy asks with a big grin spread across his face.
"The car scraping on the ground? Yeah I saw it, but I didn't get the number plate. Wonder what they hit?"
He seems satisfied with my reply and they continue on their way to my great relief.
I pack away my camera and head for home, heart-beat slowing and chocolate starfish returning to it's normal relaxed state.