There's a steepish downhill approach with a switchback in it, and a bit of a turn at the end of the ramp. So I'm going along pretty slowly, trying to stay out of the way of more intrepid cyclists who can take the switchback faster than I can.
I got to the bridge itself, where the bottleneck gets really narrow, and a guy behind me, trying to get around me on my right, misjudged the distance and wiped out.
I stopped, of course. He was okay (thank you helmet), but his bike probably wasn't. I think it was pretty clear to both of us that the error of judgment was his, and I also think it was pretty clear to both of us that he would have LOVED to be angry at me for being slow, or unfit, or otherwise annoying and in his way and "causing" his mistake.
It was very uncomfortable. Knowing you're right doesn't always pencil out to "feeling fine." I got to the office and had all kinds of trouble getting Clyde into the rack and locked up--it wasn't that my hands were shaking, but I was shaken, you know?
It's a case of "get back in the saddle and ride" (literally!), I guess, because I'm not giving up cycling, no matter what my stupid nerves say.