wfooshee
O, Woe is me!!
As of about 12:30 this afternoon, it had been 8 years and 37 days since i crashed a motorcycle.
As of about 12:31 this afternoon, it had been a few seconds.
I was out and about, going to Milton (on purpose!) to visit the West Florida Railroad Museum, to get the grab posted earlier this week in the moto-tag game.
Going through Destin, the slow part, not the heavy-congestion road that used to be the bypass, I was approaching some stopped traffic at a light, and several vehicles in front of me were approaching, too, not yet stopped but slowing down. Suddenly out from underneath the guy in front of me comes a flattened cardboard carton about the size for a washing machine.
All kinds of thinking went on instantly: I really didn't think my following distance was too close, but I hadn't considered the possibility of something I'D NEVER SEEN BEFORE, namely a slippy-slidey thing magically appearing from nothingness. I can't change lanes, traffic will make me die. I can't just ride over the cardboard as I'd not have room to stop behind the other vehicle, resulting in death. There's no shoulder to take, only a curb, which would launch me to my ultimate demise. I attempted to slow down hard while still on pavement, then ride over the cardboard and resume slowing down hard.
What happened was a brief lockup of the front wheel, from which i recovered. Bike's still under me. But by reflex, with no voluntary control at all, I grabbed brake again, but the front wheel was now on the cardboard, which then became a ski. Bike went down to the right (which is new for me - both previous dumps were to the left!) and slid to a stop before hitting the car in front. I rolled a couple of times, the helmet barely grazed the road just above the visor, and the back of my hand apparently hit the GPS pretty hard; it pulled the carbon knuckle shield off of the glove but didn't tear the glove underneath, but I still got a small spot where the skin peeled back. For the first time ever riding a motorcycle, I was bleeding after a crash! Just a little bit. A minute of pressure with a paper towel stopped it!
I picked up the bike and tried to start it, but it doesn't like stating when it's hot if it's been sitting just a couple minutes and the lights hand't been shut off. Pushed it into the driveway of the restaurant I crashed in front of, and some folks who came out of their cars to help the obviously dead motorcyclist gave me a push and I bump-started it.
The guy in front of me saw me in his mirror, and saw me disappear. He stopped and made sure i was OK, even though he'd done nothing to contribute. The other folks kept insisting I had to be hurt, and I told them that I can feel that my foot is going to bruise, but otherwise no problem. i didn't even get the adrenaline rush and near-nausea that I'd gotten both times before.
I checked the bike, and it has some new scrapes. The mirror folded as it is supposed to do, so I straightened it. The GPS was all askew where my hand hammered it on the way past (or through,) and I saw no other issues. I checked my gear, saw some marks but couldn't tell which ones were new. The right boot had a place where a seam looked to have been caught by something and whatever that something was had tried to to peel the boot open. It resisted, but it showed me where the foot was going to hurt.
It seems that I STILL cannot get my foot out from under the 650-pound motorcycle before it hits the ground! This didn't seem as bad as before, though. In both previous incidents I had pretty hard sprains in my left ankle, and had a little trouble putting weight on them. Today I had no such issue. I was walking fine, albeit with a hint of a limp.
I got back on the bike and continued my ride!
I got to the museum at exactly closing time, so i didn't get to go inside, but I got my picture with the caboose. I turned back homeward, and went by the Air Force Armament Museum at Eglin to set the next tag: the bike in front of some special type of aircraft. I used the SR-71 there.
About an hour from home, that foot started to really get sore! I could NOT find a comfortable place to put it. The best t felt was extending my leg out from the bike and just letting the foot hang there, but you can't ride like that very long; your leg gets tired!
When I got home I had no trouble getting the boot off, and I could even put it back on. (The standard "how bad is it" test!) However, it really hurt when i put weight on the foot, to the point of nearly getting sick to my stomach. I tried to ice it, but I couldn't find a comfortable place to hold it and the freezer bag's weight hurt. So i tried wrapping it with an Ace bandage, and that was much better. I still couldn't put weight on it, so moving around the house was getting to be a real chore! i have a cane but no crutches, and the cane is all but useless for this.
So I checked out what urgent care places were still open, and there was only one, about 25 minutes away, and it was 30 minutes to closing time. I got myself into the car, making sure I had my ID and insurance stuff. I JUST MISSED the green light right at the facility, and it's one of the FOREVER lights. Four minutes to go!
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, watching other traffic cross the intersection that I DESPERATELY need to cross.....
I get to the place with the door still unlocked, they bring me a wheelchair when they see the difficulty I'm having trying to hop using a cane. I fill in the paperwork, they get my DL and insurance, the doc sees me, presses places and asks where it hurts, and there's only two or three that hurt, and not bad, but I still can't stand on it.
Oh, by the way, I hadn't showered, yet. Five hours on the bike, fully geared up, with a crash in the middle, and some over-exertion in the house learning how to hop, limp, and curse. I apologized to them for what must be a horrid aroma!!! (I know that sweat is one of the least nasty things that medical folks put up with, but still, I was not comfortable exuding, as I was.)
Turns out the X-Ray people next door bailed early, so I have to return in the morning for that. But they gave me crutches, which gives me back some modicum of mobility. I jokingly asked for a blue card for the car mirror, and she very seriously replied that they couldn't do that until the findings were finalized. I was joking, lady!
So I've gone 59 years and 4 days without breaking anything, and I still don't know for sure if that record is intact. I have a LONG way to go to catch up with my brother, but be assured that catching up with his bone-pieces count is not exactly a life's goal!
No pics, yet, except this one of the right side of the bike, showing the fluffy slider and the new rash on the sidebag.
As of about 12:31 this afternoon, it had been a few seconds.
I was out and about, going to Milton (on purpose!) to visit the West Florida Railroad Museum, to get the grab posted earlier this week in the moto-tag game.
Going through Destin, the slow part, not the heavy-congestion road that used to be the bypass, I was approaching some stopped traffic at a light, and several vehicles in front of me were approaching, too, not yet stopped but slowing down. Suddenly out from underneath the guy in front of me comes a flattened cardboard carton about the size for a washing machine.
All kinds of thinking went on instantly: I really didn't think my following distance was too close, but I hadn't considered the possibility of something I'D NEVER SEEN BEFORE, namely a slippy-slidey thing magically appearing from nothingness. I can't change lanes, traffic will make me die. I can't just ride over the cardboard as I'd not have room to stop behind the other vehicle, resulting in death. There's no shoulder to take, only a curb, which would launch me to my ultimate demise. I attempted to slow down hard while still on pavement, then ride over the cardboard and resume slowing down hard.
What happened was a brief lockup of the front wheel, from which i recovered. Bike's still under me. But by reflex, with no voluntary control at all, I grabbed brake again, but the front wheel was now on the cardboard, which then became a ski. Bike went down to the right (which is new for me - both previous dumps were to the left!) and slid to a stop before hitting the car in front. I rolled a couple of times, the helmet barely grazed the road just above the visor, and the back of my hand apparently hit the GPS pretty hard; it pulled the carbon knuckle shield off of the glove but didn't tear the glove underneath, but I still got a small spot where the skin peeled back. For the first time ever riding a motorcycle, I was bleeding after a crash! Just a little bit. A minute of pressure with a paper towel stopped it!
I picked up the bike and tried to start it, but it doesn't like stating when it's hot if it's been sitting just a couple minutes and the lights hand't been shut off. Pushed it into the driveway of the restaurant I crashed in front of, and some folks who came out of their cars to help the obviously dead motorcyclist gave me a push and I bump-started it.
The guy in front of me saw me in his mirror, and saw me disappear. He stopped and made sure i was OK, even though he'd done nothing to contribute. The other folks kept insisting I had to be hurt, and I told them that I can feel that my foot is going to bruise, but otherwise no problem. i didn't even get the adrenaline rush and near-nausea that I'd gotten both times before.
I checked the bike, and it has some new scrapes. The mirror folded as it is supposed to do, so I straightened it. The GPS was all askew where my hand hammered it on the way past (or through,) and I saw no other issues. I checked my gear, saw some marks but couldn't tell which ones were new. The right boot had a place where a seam looked to have been caught by something and whatever that something was had tried to to peel the boot open. It resisted, but it showed me where the foot was going to hurt.
It seems that I STILL cannot get my foot out from under the 650-pound motorcycle before it hits the ground! This didn't seem as bad as before, though. In both previous incidents I had pretty hard sprains in my left ankle, and had a little trouble putting weight on them. Today I had no such issue. I was walking fine, albeit with a hint of a limp.
I got back on the bike and continued my ride!
I got to the museum at exactly closing time, so i didn't get to go inside, but I got my picture with the caboose. I turned back homeward, and went by the Air Force Armament Museum at Eglin to set the next tag: the bike in front of some special type of aircraft. I used the SR-71 there.
About an hour from home, that foot started to really get sore! I could NOT find a comfortable place to put it. The best t felt was extending my leg out from the bike and just letting the foot hang there, but you can't ride like that very long; your leg gets tired!
When I got home I had no trouble getting the boot off, and I could even put it back on. (The standard "how bad is it" test!) However, it really hurt when i put weight on the foot, to the point of nearly getting sick to my stomach. I tried to ice it, but I couldn't find a comfortable place to hold it and the freezer bag's weight hurt. So i tried wrapping it with an Ace bandage, and that was much better. I still couldn't put weight on it, so moving around the house was getting to be a real chore! i have a cane but no crutches, and the cane is all but useless for this.
So I checked out what urgent care places were still open, and there was only one, about 25 minutes away, and it was 30 minutes to closing time. I got myself into the car, making sure I had my ID and insurance stuff. I JUST MISSED the green light right at the facility, and it's one of the FOREVER lights. Four minutes to go!
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, watching other traffic cross the intersection that I DESPERATELY need to cross.....
I get to the place with the door still unlocked, they bring me a wheelchair when they see the difficulty I'm having trying to hop using a cane. I fill in the paperwork, they get my DL and insurance, the doc sees me, presses places and asks where it hurts, and there's only two or three that hurt, and not bad, but I still can't stand on it.
Oh, by the way, I hadn't showered, yet. Five hours on the bike, fully geared up, with a crash in the middle, and some over-exertion in the house learning how to hop, limp, and curse. I apologized to them for what must be a horrid aroma!!! (I know that sweat is one of the least nasty things that medical folks put up with, but still, I was not comfortable exuding, as I was.)
Turns out the X-Ray people next door bailed early, so I have to return in the morning for that. But they gave me crutches, which gives me back some modicum of mobility. I jokingly asked for a blue card for the car mirror, and she very seriously replied that they couldn't do that until the findings were finalized. I was joking, lady!
So I've gone 59 years and 4 days without breaking anything, and I still don't know for sure if that record is intact. I have a LONG way to go to catch up with my brother, but be assured that catching up with his bone-pieces count is not exactly a life's goal!
No pics, yet, except this one of the right side of the bike, showing the fluffy slider and the new rash on the sidebag.
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