This season’s hop crop
kind of paltry, but better than last year
Crash 2011
Sorry for the radio silence.
You may have heard through the grapevine but I had a pretty bad bike wreck on July 27th. I’ve had most of my social media on lock down as I haven’t in a mind to manage it. I’ve been feeling pretty terrible and just didn’t have the energy to handle much that wasn’t trying to sit as still as possible and take my pain mediation. Since it seems like the word of my crash spread while I was still sitting half naked in the ER – I’m going to try and do my best to write about what happened and what the road ahead looks like. (I think C’s going to write something too.) C posted her account here. So, on that note- I’m going to watch twitter again and head back to Facebook and Google+.
Part I: The Ride.
On Wednesday Morning July 27th I left the house at about 4:50 with lights on the bike. It was still pretty dark but there was also a light fog as the air was like a wet blanket of Alabama humidity
I was headed out to do some MSS intervals or my training plan. Since my climbing had been weak recently I went to Country club to do my intervals on a longish hill I use somewhat regularly. It is from Hollywood up wildwood to the top of Azalea. It s roughly a mile with an average grade at +8% It has some hard ramps with some flatter transitions between the steeps. I figured it would be a good chance to practice for cyclocross since I would need to keep my intensity up on an irregular hill. I would have to work hard to keep my heart rate up during the transitions but the hill itself would take me a bit less than 10 minutes to get up it. I planned on doing 10 intervals or however I could before I blew up my legs or it got to be 7 a.m. and I would need to get back for work. I made it over to Country Club on nice quiet morning roads but the air was thick and damp. I noticed some runners in the Footworks parking lot as I crossed Rainbow drive.
I did my first interval up the hill taking it easy. As I turned around at the top I noticed it was getting plenty light out- but decided to keep my lights since the road was shaded and visibility still wasn’t great. I descended nice and easy because of the narrow road and tight turns. I then went up again, pushing it a bit harder – but my heart rate monitor wasn’t reporting realistic heart data- the data must’ve been dying.
I summitted the climb again and started to decent at a more normal pace since I had a good feel for the turns after the last run.
Part II: The Crash
I made it through the first set of turns easily, but as I started setting myself up for a sweeping right left chicane – my back tire started to slide out from under me. I sat up and righted the bike; I then looked up out of my turn to see that I was now pointed straight out of the turn at the apex. In a half instant I realized I wasn’t going to make my turn. I looked for an escape route but the only thing I saw was an empty lot with a few trees, sloping downhill. There was a deep concrete gutter through most of the road, but I noticed a spot near my path that was grown over with grass. I resigned myself to going off the road. I grabbed as much brake as I could and dropped my speed from 30 to 20, and then my bike left the tarmac. (This part is a blur) I managed to hold the bike upright bouncing through the gutter and then the rooty sections of dirt. I dodged trees on either side of me and then all of a sudden the bike stopped and slipped to the right underneath me and I went with it down in a tangled heap on my left side.
I sat there for a minute and did a systems check. I could see, smell, move my head, fingers and toes- but I clearly had that tingly shocky feeling after a big impact. I touched my helmet head and it seemed smooth and unbroken.
I touched my right leg and found a big meaty bloody flap. I held my hand to it to keep pressure on it. I realized I was ay back in a yard and needed to get help. I tried to sit up, but I noticed that anytime I tried to do anything with my left arm I had lightning bolts of pain run through my body. I yelled for help a few times- to no avail- I felt like I could have been in the middle of the Alaskan woods – no response. I decided that I had to make it to the road- whatever it took- I had to get help (I managed to leave my cell phone in my office the night before and therefore had no way of contacting anyone. I never ever do this- I always ride with a phone.)
I thought about my options. I managed to reach into my jersey pocket and get my little Seal line wallet/case. In it I had a few bucks, a small hankerchief from C and my Finish Safe card- a medical details card. I opened the case and pulled out the hanky and used it to staunch the flow of blood from my right leg- I pulled out the card and put it and the wallet between my teeth. I pushed through the pain and half stood up. I must have looked terrible limping/crawling to the side of the road tucking my left arm into my chest. I made it to the side of the road biting on the wallet in pain. I sat down and put it on the ground near me so someone would find it if I lost consciousness.
I looked at my leg again, pulling back the blood soaked handkerchief- I could tell that the cut was deep by the thickness of skin and muscle I could see severed. I quickly put back under the handkerchief and pressed harder (thank goodness for Boy Scout first aid training- compression compression compression.)
I could see the blood running in rivulets down my leg. I thought about my options. I kept calling for help, hoping that someone in one of the houses would hear me during their morning cup of coffee. I started thinking about trying to move again. 50 yards up the road was a small intersection where I might have better luck being found. Further down the road likely, 150 yards was Rainbow drive and a Fire Station. I decided I was going to yell for a little bit longer then crawl for Rainbow Drive.
Part III: The Pickup
Nothing, I called and I called. I decided to try and move. I garnered all my strength and tried to stand, but the pain from my left side crippled me. I tried to slide down he road a few inches at a time but hurt so much I began to feel nauseated with each half inch scoot. I decided I would just have to wait. I don’t remember actually how long it took, but my GPS timer tells me it took 30 minutes- a truck came, then another – a work crew. A passenger from the first truck got out and asked if I needed help. I told I had fell on my bike and asked if he had a phone. E mumbled something and yelled to the truck in the back, the first truck drove up the hill and the next truck pulled into a driveway behind me. A crew chief popped out and I asked him to make a call for me. He whipped out hiss cell phone and dialed as I recited C’s phone number. I was still clutching my emergency card. He put the phone on speaker and held it down to my face. I spoke to a Groggy C asking her to come pick me up. It seems I didn’t mention that I was hurt, just that I needed her to come pick me up. At one point I conferred with the guys to make sure I was telling her the right location- just turn into Country Club at Hollywood and go a half mile. Then she was on her way. The guys asked me if I needed anything else, then they were on their way, disappearing as fast as they had arrived. I never got to ask them their names or offer more than a feeble thank you, but they pulled my bacon out of the fire.
Soon a few more cars passed inquiring if I needed help, first an SUV piloted by a co-workers sister, a nurse in fact- then another handy man crew in an old pickup, you know the kind with the bumper engraved with the name of the ford dealership it was purchased from in the late 70s I told them all that I had a ride on the way and that I would be OK soon enough. I waited and waited- praying and hoping to see Champagne colored Hyundai around the next bend. A few minutes more and I saw the dark gray nose of a Honda. Hmm that. looks. like. my. car! Hooray my sedan driving savior. Carol got there and she soon realized I was hurt. I told her that I thought we should go to the Hospital and she stood there for a second looking at me, she may have even cocked her head to the side as if to say “ of course we’re going to the hospital you big dummy” I told her that my shoulder hurt, and that I had also gashed my leg ‘pretty good.’ She asked to look, so I pulled away my hand she straightened up with an inaudible gasp and let out a terse ‘yup, I think you’re going to need stitches’’
She gad parked the car in a driveway nearby, maybe 30 feet away, but I told her I was going to need to be much closer. She got back in the car and pulled it right beside me. I realized an uncomfortable maneuver would be in order shortly as I had to find a way to get into the car. Carol jumped out. Took my helmet from me, and then she summoned some superhuman strength and grabbed me around the torso from behind, stood me up and placed my seat on that of the car’s. We then jointly and awkwardly folded my limbs and head into the passenger seat. As she closed up the car she asked if she should get my bike and I clearly remembered saying ‘ I don’t care’ I think this scared her as I treat my bike like one of my most valuable possessions. She quickly ran over and found my bike and tossed it on the rack. By now a few cars gathered behind us. She closed up the car, and whipped the car around on the narrow road and drove quickly down to Rainbow drive.
She flew down the drive like ad hoc ambulance she was- apologizing after each jolt in the road jangled the broken bones against each other- I let out gasps and grunts of pain. We stopped at a red light near Pruett’s BBQ and I realized she still had her flashers on- I told her “ you can probably turn off the flashers” thinking she just hadn’t thought to do it yet. She said in a matter of fact tone “ Nope, hold on, I’m getting to break the law” and she gently popped the clutch and launched us though the traffic signal. Once I remember that I was still bleeding I dropped the handkerchief and grabbed a wad of yellow fast food napkins from the console and staunched more flow- but I realized I couldn’t feel the flap of torn flesh, probably less than ideal. I think we both realized that we were going to hit the worst stretch of road in Gadsden- Meighan Boulevard rive with crazy drivers from Wal-Mart, railroad tracks and Talladega-esque 4 wide high speed driving. I put my head back and just tried to breathe.
Before I knew it we were pulled up at the door of the Gadsden Regional Emergency room. We briefly discussed ho I was going to get inside and then in a flash Carol was back with a calm orderly and a wheelchair.
I’ll stop here and pick up later as I’m exhausted from typing one handed.
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