My turn to go down hard
Posted: Tue Dec 26, 2006 4:06 pm
Gary isn't the only one to have an accident this holiday season. I myself had one a few days ago while riding.
It took me almost 9 years of riding to reach the milestone. But reach it nonetheless and surprisingly not too worse for wear other than badly bruised and scraped knees and a broken pinkie finger in the right hand.
I was having a wonderful day of riding on Saturday that began on my BMW for the first leg of my trip, and my Harley to finish off the day. I left Haymarket around noon and got to Blacksburg on my BMW without incident. I swapped for my Harley and headed for southern Virginia to visit a good friend in Halifax. Enjoying the burbling Harley exhaust note, I got to Philip’s parents house in the early evening hours to have dinner and chat. I hit the road north on route 360 through Richmond and eventually to Northern VA. At approximately 1 a.m. in the morning, I exited off I-95 onto Route 234 to head to Haymarket. Heading northwest, I was approaching the entrance to the Montclair development as the light started to change. I had my throttle friction lock engaged with my speed at 50 – 55 mph. I usually have it set to where it doesn’t take much effort to roll the throttle closed. Well, I had it locked firmer than usual and I didn’t apply enough force to close it while braking at the same time – a really stupid, careless error on my part after a long day of riding. The 82 ft. lbs. of torque that a Harley 88ci twin cam engine exerts on the rear wheel simply overpowered the front wheels ability to slow the bike down. The front locked as I applied more force, and I found myself thrown to the ground.
In several bicycling accidents as my first motorcycle one, things always seemed to happen lightning fast while thoughts enter your mind in succession with distinct clarity. When the front end washed out and I was in the midst of separating from my Harley, the first thing I thought was “Man, I can’t believe I’m joining the club of bikers who’ve gone down.†The second thought that came to mind was I needed to get up – only to realize that I was still sliding down the road at a pretty good clip while spinning around on my butt. It was at this time I saw my bike sliding down the road ahead of me toward the intersection. Seeing a 650 lb. motorcycle emitting a shower of sparks just a few feet from you is an awesome sight to behold. The fastest way to slow down on pavement while preventing acute pressure points that burn holes in your clothing down to your skin is to go limp and present as much surface area of your body to the road. And so I commanded my body to lay flat as possible on my back in order to stop.
As soon as I stopped, I quickly took stock of myself. “No major injuries†was the thought that came to mind. I got up, walk over to my bike, and turn the key off. It was then I realized all the cars around me had stopped. A woman was on a cell phone calling EMT while a man and a woman – the latter a nurse, came over to ask if I was alright. The nurse had me go through a battery of initial questions to make sure I hadn’t suffered a concussion or spinal injury. It was then I realized my right pinkie was killing me. I thought that it was probably broken given that it hurt more than the sprains I’ve experienced earlier in life. A police officer arrived not long after the initial checkup, and then an ambulance. The EMT personnel had me go through the same battery of questions and physical regimen. It was then my knees started to throb in intense pain whereby for the first time that night I started to groan. I knew under the 2 pant layer of clothing my knees must be bleeding. Lying on the cold pavement also made me begin to shiver. It was then Fourier came to mind – the Frenchman who laid down the theoretical basis for modern Calculus and the basic mathematics for signal processing. Fourier began his mathematical research as a result of the belief that heat was the key to a man’s health. I mentioned this to the paramedics, who probably thought I was a little nuts. OK, I AM nuts. They expressed admiration at the weight of the motorcycle gear I had worn during the accident, saying that my heavy Suzuki jacket with its padding probably saved me from internal injuries.
At the hospital, I was taken into the trauma room to make sure I didn’t experience anything major to my organs or spine. The EMTs all expressed amazement that I wasn’t hurt worse. “You had really good gear, sir. It saved you from being hurt a lot worse.†was their common refrain. I had spent good money on my Shoei helmet, Sidi motorcycle touring boots, and Suzuki jacket. It was money well spent. I was given percocet for pain relief as my knees and finger were throbbing within the hour I arrived. I was given a tetanus booster shortly thereafter and X-rayed at 4 in the morning. Man, X-Ray tables are cold! It was determined that I had a broken pinkie finger and severely bruised but intact knees. The left knee was scraped up pretty badly, so I knew I was in for a painful scrubbing to get bits of Route 234 out of my skin. I wound up falling asleep around 4 and dozed in and out of sleep until my primary nurse came around to scrub out the wound. My knee felt a lot better afterward. I called Brad, the president of my company who came by to help me collect my belongings and give me a ride home. I didn’t want to call my parents – they would have freaked out as soon as they heard they had to pick me up at the hospital. Brad dropped me off at home letting me know to call him if I needed anything.
I felt grubby and greasy as it had been more than 24 hours since I had a shower. I soaked myself in my 7’ tub at home and scrubbed myself down as best I could without the full use of my right hand. Over the past two days, I’ve enjoyed some good food my mom made me and the constant vicinity of my cats. The cats seem to understand that something is not quite right with me. They’ve been hanging out a lot closer than usual.
Given that it is now the day after Christmas, I have not had the chance to contact Prince William County police to check on the status of my Harley. I look forward to either getting it repaired or, should it be totaled getting another Harley. Riders who go down face the question of quitting riding. The immediate response to the thought was "Heck no!" Experiences like this certainly warrant careful reflection to make sure the same mistake isn’t repeated. But I can’t wait to get back in the saddle and hit the open road again. No retreat.
It took me almost 9 years of riding to reach the milestone. But reach it nonetheless and surprisingly not too worse for wear other than badly bruised and scraped knees and a broken pinkie finger in the right hand.
I was having a wonderful day of riding on Saturday that began on my BMW for the first leg of my trip, and my Harley to finish off the day. I left Haymarket around noon and got to Blacksburg on my BMW without incident. I swapped for my Harley and headed for southern Virginia to visit a good friend in Halifax. Enjoying the burbling Harley exhaust note, I got to Philip’s parents house in the early evening hours to have dinner and chat. I hit the road north on route 360 through Richmond and eventually to Northern VA. At approximately 1 a.m. in the morning, I exited off I-95 onto Route 234 to head to Haymarket. Heading northwest, I was approaching the entrance to the Montclair development as the light started to change. I had my throttle friction lock engaged with my speed at 50 – 55 mph. I usually have it set to where it doesn’t take much effort to roll the throttle closed. Well, I had it locked firmer than usual and I didn’t apply enough force to close it while braking at the same time – a really stupid, careless error on my part after a long day of riding. The 82 ft. lbs. of torque that a Harley 88ci twin cam engine exerts on the rear wheel simply overpowered the front wheels ability to slow the bike down. The front locked as I applied more force, and I found myself thrown to the ground.
In several bicycling accidents as my first motorcycle one, things always seemed to happen lightning fast while thoughts enter your mind in succession with distinct clarity. When the front end washed out and I was in the midst of separating from my Harley, the first thing I thought was “Man, I can’t believe I’m joining the club of bikers who’ve gone down.†The second thought that came to mind was I needed to get up – only to realize that I was still sliding down the road at a pretty good clip while spinning around on my butt. It was at this time I saw my bike sliding down the road ahead of me toward the intersection. Seeing a 650 lb. motorcycle emitting a shower of sparks just a few feet from you is an awesome sight to behold. The fastest way to slow down on pavement while preventing acute pressure points that burn holes in your clothing down to your skin is to go limp and present as much surface area of your body to the road. And so I commanded my body to lay flat as possible on my back in order to stop.
As soon as I stopped, I quickly took stock of myself. “No major injuries†was the thought that came to mind. I got up, walk over to my bike, and turn the key off. It was then I realized all the cars around me had stopped. A woman was on a cell phone calling EMT while a man and a woman – the latter a nurse, came over to ask if I was alright. The nurse had me go through a battery of initial questions to make sure I hadn’t suffered a concussion or spinal injury. It was then I realized my right pinkie was killing me. I thought that it was probably broken given that it hurt more than the sprains I’ve experienced earlier in life. A police officer arrived not long after the initial checkup, and then an ambulance. The EMT personnel had me go through the same battery of questions and physical regimen. It was then my knees started to throb in intense pain whereby for the first time that night I started to groan. I knew under the 2 pant layer of clothing my knees must be bleeding. Lying on the cold pavement also made me begin to shiver. It was then Fourier came to mind – the Frenchman who laid down the theoretical basis for modern Calculus and the basic mathematics for signal processing. Fourier began his mathematical research as a result of the belief that heat was the key to a man’s health. I mentioned this to the paramedics, who probably thought I was a little nuts. OK, I AM nuts. They expressed admiration at the weight of the motorcycle gear I had worn during the accident, saying that my heavy Suzuki jacket with its padding probably saved me from internal injuries.
At the hospital, I was taken into the trauma room to make sure I didn’t experience anything major to my organs or spine. The EMTs all expressed amazement that I wasn’t hurt worse. “You had really good gear, sir. It saved you from being hurt a lot worse.†was their common refrain. I had spent good money on my Shoei helmet, Sidi motorcycle touring boots, and Suzuki jacket. It was money well spent. I was given percocet for pain relief as my knees and finger were throbbing within the hour I arrived. I was given a tetanus booster shortly thereafter and X-rayed at 4 in the morning. Man, X-Ray tables are cold! It was determined that I had a broken pinkie finger and severely bruised but intact knees. The left knee was scraped up pretty badly, so I knew I was in for a painful scrubbing to get bits of Route 234 out of my skin. I wound up falling asleep around 4 and dozed in and out of sleep until my primary nurse came around to scrub out the wound. My knee felt a lot better afterward. I called Brad, the president of my company who came by to help me collect my belongings and give me a ride home. I didn’t want to call my parents – they would have freaked out as soon as they heard they had to pick me up at the hospital. Brad dropped me off at home letting me know to call him if I needed anything.
I felt grubby and greasy as it had been more than 24 hours since I had a shower. I soaked myself in my 7’ tub at home and scrubbed myself down as best I could without the full use of my right hand. Over the past two days, I’ve enjoyed some good food my mom made me and the constant vicinity of my cats. The cats seem to understand that something is not quite right with me. They’ve been hanging out a lot closer than usual.
Given that it is now the day after Christmas, I have not had the chance to contact Prince William County police to check on the status of my Harley. I look forward to either getting it repaired or, should it be totaled getting another Harley. Riders who go down face the question of quitting riding. The immediate response to the thought was "Heck no!" Experiences like this certainly warrant careful reflection to make sure the same mistake isn’t repeated. But I can’t wait to get back in the saddle and hit the open road again. No retreat.
