2:00 PM, July 2nd. I'm cycling east along Bloor St., just east of Bathurst in downtown Toronto. Next thing I know the driver of a blue minivan parked at the curb had suddenly opened his door about five feet in front of me.

I slammed on the brakes but what stopped me was the edge of the vehicle door smacking against my right thigh. The whole affair came to an undignified conclusion as I pitched forward, landing hard on my hands and knees as my bike clattered to the road behind me and off to one side.

I stumbled to my feet and proceeded to lecture the driver, who by this time was standing in the curb lane gawking at me. I reminded him of the fact a cyclist had been killed in Toronto earlier this spring by precisely the kind of boneheaded move he'd just made. After that I hung around until the worst of the shakes subsided while a couple of pedestrians commiserated with me. (One man I spoke to was sporting a bandage on his own knee following a similar mishap last week).

The total box score: One pretty good bruise on my left knee, and another on my right thigh where I hit the door. A sore right hand from the impact on the pavement. And I also gave some nothing little muscle over my right ribs a pretty good yank - you know, one of those you don't even know exists until you injure the damned thing, then it makes its presence known very loudly.

The bright spot is that my bicycle survived the experience totally unscathed. My rear mudguard was knocked askew but that was simply a matter of pushing it back into alignment over my back wheel.

Me? I have the feeling I'm going to be sore for the next few days but at least it isn't anything that won't sort itself out in fairly short order. But in the meantime my regimen is going to consist mainly of Tylenol and hot baths. Nice way to launch the summer, huh?