The Correspondent: Confessions of a crash victim

Mar 28, 2026

By Harry Mottram: I was cycling along the road when a car went straight into the back of me at 40mph. The driver didn’t brake, there were no skid marks and I should have died. I had glanced over my shoulder as I approached the roundabout on the outskirts of Gloucester and assumed the car behind me would slow down as it approached me and the junction. It was dry and sunny and the middle of the day with light traffic as I cycled back from Worcester. My memory is incomplete. I felt a huge force hit my back, I had a feeling of being thrown into the air at speed and then blackness. I passed out and slowly came too hearing voices. I fell unconscious again and when I woke again, I was being lifted into an ambulance.

***Painkillers and a sling for several weeks afterwards***

After more than 18 months the driver’s insurance company settled out of court with my no win no fee solicitor. After all the expenses and costs associated with the injuries, loss of work and visits to the hospital – plus smashed bicycle – I just about came out ahead. My sisters clubbed together and bought me a replacement bicycle – and some new hi-vis clothing as the old stuff had been cut off my body by the medics. The driver was a born-again Christian gospel singer who according to witnesses was so distraught at what had happened that instead of calling an ambulance or seeing to my injuries she called out for forgiveness from Jesus by praying in the road.

Fortunately, members of the public came to my aid, summoning an ambulance and contacting the police, putting me into the recovery position at the side of the road, stopping the traffic, stemming my bleeding and pulling my smashed bicycle onto the pavement. Well, that’s what I understood happened as I was out for the count. I wasn’t wearing a helmet that day having forgotten to take it that day – which accounts for the cuts on my forehead but I was in hi-vis. I’ve worn one ever since – even on the Strawberry Line cycle path to Winscombe. A kind woman and her partner also provided witness statements later which put the kibosh on the driver’s claims it was all my fault. The Police I’m afraid were not too helpful saying they only stopped briefly as they had been called to a more serious road accident and at the time appeared to accept the words of the driver since I was out cold. It was to take a long series of phone calls, emails and statements through a solicitor as well as by my own efforts at a later date to bring the driver to account.

***Ouch. Not pretty but incredibly I was alive***

The medics at Gloucester Royal Infirmary topped up my morphine so the evening passed in a blur as they stitched me up and took x-rays. I had multiple fractures but to their astonishment I had survived. “You should have died, said one nurse, “usually a cyclist hit at 40mph would be killed or certainly be paralysed. You are very lucky.” And so everyone else I encountered in hospital over the next few weeks were to reiterate: I should have died. For a dead person I was surprisingly alive. I can only put it down to not expecting to be hit by a car and so was relaxed on impact and also being fatter than I am now. All that fat acted as a sort of padding. Who said eating too many portions of pie and chips is bad for you?

***My sisters clubbed together to replace my old style Raleigh bike***

My son Ashley cut short his holiday and drove up to collect his dad from hospital later that night with Linda who was too shocked to drive. And that was my main regret – putting my family through such worries. Linda in particular was traumatised and Ashley’s holiday in Dorset was put on hold. The A&E department was very busy since it was a Saturday night and they decided I could be discharged since my family could take care of me and drive me home. Ashley contacted the cops and that night we drove to the police station and the various bits of the bike were rescued and put in his car boot.

Recovery took about six weeks or so with a sling for a bashed in shoulder and daily pain killers although lingering bruises and aches and pains continued for months. Linda drove me to a family reunion and to hospital appointments for more x-rays – and I learnt to type with my left hand as newspaper deadlines don’t go away when you are self-employed and the only employee.

Apart from the pain of the injuries I felt anger that someone could simply drive away from having nearly killed me. It was very frustrating as for a long time it looked like I wouldn’t receive any compensation for the hundreds of pounds I had to spend on police reports, visits to solicitors and hospitals and physiotherapy amongst other things. I managed to find the address of the driver through online searches and wrote a letter to her asking for an explanation and an apology. Obviously I didn’t receive an answer – while one of the most irritating social aspects of the accident is to be told off by relatives and people I didn’t even know for cycling ‘at my age.’ It was somehow in their eyes my fault and not the driver’s.

The accident hasn’t put me off cycling – but I’m a little more cautious on main roads – but as a neighbour said – you don’t expect somebody to rear end you and not even brake. Two weeks after the accident the driver’s car failed its MOT: on faulty brakes. Another piece of evidence for the insurance claim – but a reminder of how tenuous life can be.