Pages

Friday, March 20, 2009

My Best Bike Stories - Part 1 - My Big Wreck

I've wrecked a lot. My friends wrecked a lot. Whether it was youthful indiscretion or the lack of fear, we found ourselves on the wrong side of the pedals countless times. We did a lot of fun and stupid things on bikes. In this mini-series I will try to describe our most notable adventures, they aren't all fairy tales but they're not all gruesome either, some are even hilarious.

My Big Wreck ~1990
It was summer. It was dusk. I was late. I was wearing sunglasses. I was wearing headphones. I was not smart.

I was traveling home from a day at the beach with friends so the attire was minimal: ripped, cut-off jeans, a T-shirt cut into a muscle shirt, and aviator sunglasses the size of a bus windshield. (hey stop snickering, it was 1990!) There was no safety equipment in sight with Creedence Clearwater Revival blasting in my ears .

I knew the route well, I'd traveled it almost daily to get to my friends houses. It was a bike path along my street and there was a small downhill that we would try go as fast as possible down. OK, we tried to go as fast as possible everywhere, we were testosterone laden teens (wait, don't I still ride that way?). Any how, I remember checking my speed, 25mph, and then going ass over teakettle.

What the hell happened I asked myself as I was sliding, rolling, and bouncing down the street. When I came to a stop all I could think of was "where's my bike?" All I could hear was a kid screaming. When I spun around and found the bike it was bouncing end for end down the street. It stopped at least 50 feet away in the middle of the road and now my focus was on "I have to get it out of the road before someone runs it over". Yes my priorities were a little off.

I got up and tried to run to the bike. Something wasn't right. I wasn't in much pain but I could hardly walk let alone run. I hobbled to the bike and tried to roll it. It wouldn't roll. "What happened to my bike" I thought. A lot was racing through my head if you couldn't tell.

The scream soundtrack that I had been hearing since the moment of impact was from a 3-4 year old boy whose 7-8 year old brother I'd just hit. Once their mother calmed down the younger boy, the older boy unleashed a tongue lashing on me that only a sailor could give. He's was blaming me for intentionally hitting him. Hitting someone or something on a bike is not something one does intentionally.

Here's the rundown, so to speak; As I was coming down the hill, I checked the speedometer and veered to the left slightly. Just beyond a wooded section these kids were coming up out of a hollow out of their driveway. I never saw them or heard them.

Their mom saw how bad I was looking and figured her kids were OK and she took me home. Once at the hospital they X-Rays showed the tendon on my big toe had parted ways with the bone. Doctors recommendation: Don't try to move your toe for 4-6 weeks! Gee thanks.

Aside from the toe (which effectively prevented me from walking without crutches) I was a hurting unit. My palms, elbows, knees, and shoulders all had bad road rash. My hip was bruised from the walkman and the CCR tape was ground down after the door to the walkman was chewed off. The tape still plays by the way.

The bike was battered; potato chip like wheels, bent fork, ripped seat and bar tape, and scratched all over.

So what's the moral to the story? Always wear a helmet, gloves, appropriate eye wear for the conditions and never, EVER wear headphones on a bike.

g

No comments:

Post a Comment