Cyclist Killed in Indianapolis Loved the Local Bike Community

I hate that stories about cyclists hit and killed by cars are more common than we want to admit, and although most of us realize that we are in a losing proposition with a car collision, the moments allow us to reflect and keep a greater sense of awareness about us on the roads. At least I hope.

I was riding to a doctor’s appointment this morning when I passed a wreck, but I was paying too much attention to the traffic to divert my eyes onto the scene. Only when I arrived at the office did I find out a cyclist had been hit and killed at that very intersection just fifteen minutes before I arrived. On the way back home I stopped to take a photo as the bus that hit the cyclist was in the road, investigative crews were mapping the area, and the rider’s bike was still on the ground. As I started to ride away I saw an officer pick up what was left of the mangled frame and place it in his car. From a distance I could tell it was a nice bike and I feared it was an experienced cyclist from the riding community, and either myself or a number of friends might know who it was. Turns out, I didn’t know him, but others in the community did. His name was Neil Kelty. He was 23. He was a new commuter, very excited about progressing Indy forward in alternative transportation, and was doing everything right. He was in the bike lane. He was wearing a helmet. But none of that mattered. The bus still turned into and collided with him head on. This was his last Facebook post.

“Absolutely love how helpful & open experienced cyclists have been as this newbie tries to learn enough to begin a 20 mile daily commute to/from work. The folks at Nebo Ridge Bicycles were absolutely amazing earlier this week – talking to me for nearly an hour after their shop was closed. Loved that they led with a teaching heart instead of a hard sell. That’s what I call great service, I’m looking forward to heading back once I’ve narrowed down options a little more.

And this was a recent blog post. The irony of the last line stabbing.