wfooshee
O, Woe is me!!
Rode to my brother's in Pensacola Wed evening, left from his house Thursday AM for Birmingham, almost before the tornado hit. We were we east of that mess, and going away from it, but our gas stop was full of cruisers headed to Daytona stopping for shelter.
(We needed a LOT of gas stops: my brother's VTR1000 only carries 3 gallons!)
Anyway, we rode a bit north, then west to get behind the storm front. Very hard rain for the first hour or so, then drizzly for a couple more, then it cleared up nicely.
We took back roads up through Selma, Camden, etc, I don't even know the exact route, I was just following Steve. We approached Birmingham, and he wanted to show me his favorite road here, SR 25. We took it north, I'm taking it easy, he's playing in spurts and then waiting for me. On the way back south, I was collected by the turn they call The Collector.
For some reason known only to God and the governor of Alabama the shoulder of this road is "paved" with gravel. Of course, this gravel washes down onto the surface when it rains, and it had rained hard several hours before we got there. First pass was the inside lane, but the second was the outside.
OK, Basic Rider Course review:
What is the biggest factor in single-vehicle motorcycle accidents?
Failure to negotiate a curve.
Why was the curve not negotiated?
Eyeballs going the wrong direction.
Back to our story: I was OK in the turn, nearly through it actually, when I saw the gravel. In my mind I'm thinking, "Gee, I need to not go there," but I couldn't look away. Front wheel lost grip and I low-sided hard on the left side, at about 10 miles an hour.
I clearly remember my face hitting the ground, and feeling the bump on the bony part of my hip. My Right thumbnail was torn off about halfway down on the left and halfway across, the top corner, in other words. Glove was not torn. My thumb was jammed, too, as evidenced by the 1/8-inch round bruise on the end of it which appeared today (day after the crash.) Throttle work is difficult and not precise as I would like, as my grip suffers. (Yay cruise control!)
What I do not remember is apparently cushioning the bike with my left ankle, which is sprained, but not broken. My boot has a pinch mark just above the ankle protector, and my foot is black and blue and swollen.
I slid maybe 5 feet. My rain suit is toast, or maybe nothing a bit of duct tape can't handle. My jacket has a very small scrape on my elbow, exactly on the armor. My helmet and face shield are scraped but good. I have no rash, but there's a mark on each kneecap and a bruise on my left hip. There's a set of tiny marks on my left forehead.
Somebody called 911 and every EMT for 3 counties came to work it. My brother says a rider down on this road was reported on the floribama riders forum, and I think it was me. Anyway, I was feeling bad, sick from the adrenaline, and not having eaten more than a snack for 6 hours. They had me lie in the grass and fed me oxygen, which was fun. When I sat up, I got light-headed, and they started talking flashy-bus ride. No, I said I'm OK. They asked me all the brain questions, which I passed. Once they let me stand up, I was actually better than sitting up. Probably just couldn't breathe with my gut folded up.
The bike ended up against the guard rail, with the front wheel under the rail. It was jammed so that the front wheel behind it was higher than the bottom of the rail, and it took four guys to get the bike out. It has some scrapes, a folded slider and a folded Wild Bill peg (which I just got, damnit!!!) and the left mirror was bent down. Otherwise fine, ridable, my brother rode it off the road.
The plan was for my brother to continue to the friend's house we were staying at and return with a car and an extra body, drive me home and he'd ride my bike home. Friend is not to be found.
The man who lives at that corner (Charles) invited me in to watch the Rutgers/USF game, and we had a nice chat about things for the 90 minutes it took my brother to decide no help was to be found and to return. By this time I was feeling OK, no more adrenaline, and we decided I could ride home. We stopped for supper (STILL hadn't eaten) and went home.
I took a shower and went to bed.
Today we did what we came to do, work a corner station at the historics. I got some pics I'll post when I can, but I don't have time to dick with that right now, everything's nearly dead and needs recharging. Just let me say that this is some cool stuff, and some very cool old bikes. Pictures coming, I promise, but probably not till Mon or Tue.
Anybody in the area, come to the track. My bike will be parked in the paddock immediately behind the main building on the front straight. Leave a note, put new parts on, whatever you like. PM me for a phone if you like.
Today after the racing, we visited 29 Dreams motorcycle resort, on Hwy 25, went through The Collector southbound safely, easily. Had a decent barbecue pork sandwich. There was a BMW there that I think had an Iron Butt tag frame, but he was leaving and I didn't get to chat.
More racing tomorrow and Sunday, and a LONG ride home Sunday night, back to the ol' grind Monday.
Pictures then, I promise, but first, witness my new sig graphic:
(We needed a LOT of gas stops: my brother's VTR1000 only carries 3 gallons!)
Anyway, we rode a bit north, then west to get behind the storm front. Very hard rain for the first hour or so, then drizzly for a couple more, then it cleared up nicely.
We took back roads up through Selma, Camden, etc, I don't even know the exact route, I was just following Steve. We approached Birmingham, and he wanted to show me his favorite road here, SR 25. We took it north, I'm taking it easy, he's playing in spurts and then waiting for me. On the way back south, I was collected by the turn they call The Collector.
For some reason known only to God and the governor of Alabama the shoulder of this road is "paved" with gravel. Of course, this gravel washes down onto the surface when it rains, and it had rained hard several hours before we got there. First pass was the inside lane, but the second was the outside.
OK, Basic Rider Course review:
What is the biggest factor in single-vehicle motorcycle accidents?
Failure to negotiate a curve.
Why was the curve not negotiated?
Eyeballs going the wrong direction.
Back to our story: I was OK in the turn, nearly through it actually, when I saw the gravel. In my mind I'm thinking, "Gee, I need to not go there," but I couldn't look away. Front wheel lost grip and I low-sided hard on the left side, at about 10 miles an hour.
I clearly remember my face hitting the ground, and feeling the bump on the bony part of my hip. My Right thumbnail was torn off about halfway down on the left and halfway across, the top corner, in other words. Glove was not torn. My thumb was jammed, too, as evidenced by the 1/8-inch round bruise on the end of it which appeared today (day after the crash.) Throttle work is difficult and not precise as I would like, as my grip suffers. (Yay cruise control!)
What I do not remember is apparently cushioning the bike with my left ankle, which is sprained, but not broken. My boot has a pinch mark just above the ankle protector, and my foot is black and blue and swollen.
I slid maybe 5 feet. My rain suit is toast, or maybe nothing a bit of duct tape can't handle. My jacket has a very small scrape on my elbow, exactly on the armor. My helmet and face shield are scraped but good. I have no rash, but there's a mark on each kneecap and a bruise on my left hip. There's a set of tiny marks on my left forehead.
Somebody called 911 and every EMT for 3 counties came to work it. My brother says a rider down on this road was reported on the floribama riders forum, and I think it was me. Anyway, I was feeling bad, sick from the adrenaline, and not having eaten more than a snack for 6 hours. They had me lie in the grass and fed me oxygen, which was fun. When I sat up, I got light-headed, and they started talking flashy-bus ride. No, I said I'm OK. They asked me all the brain questions, which I passed. Once they let me stand up, I was actually better than sitting up. Probably just couldn't breathe with my gut folded up.
The bike ended up against the guard rail, with the front wheel under the rail. It was jammed so that the front wheel behind it was higher than the bottom of the rail, and it took four guys to get the bike out. It has some scrapes, a folded slider and a folded Wild Bill peg (which I just got, damnit!!!) and the left mirror was bent down. Otherwise fine, ridable, my brother rode it off the road.
The plan was for my brother to continue to the friend's house we were staying at and return with a car and an extra body, drive me home and he'd ride my bike home. Friend is not to be found.
The man who lives at that corner (Charles) invited me in to watch the Rutgers/USF game, and we had a nice chat about things for the 90 minutes it took my brother to decide no help was to be found and to return. By this time I was feeling OK, no more adrenaline, and we decided I could ride home. We stopped for supper (STILL hadn't eaten) and went home.
I took a shower and went to bed.
Today we did what we came to do, work a corner station at the historics. I got some pics I'll post when I can, but I don't have time to dick with that right now, everything's nearly dead and needs recharging. Just let me say that this is some cool stuff, and some very cool old bikes. Pictures coming, I promise, but probably not till Mon or Tue.
Anybody in the area, come to the track. My bike will be parked in the paddock immediately behind the main building on the front straight. Leave a note, put new parts on, whatever you like. PM me for a phone if you like.
Today after the racing, we visited 29 Dreams motorcycle resort, on Hwy 25, went through The Collector southbound safely, easily. Had a decent barbecue pork sandwich. There was a BMW there that I think had an Iron Butt tag frame, but he was leaving and I didn't get to chat.
More racing tomorrow and Sunday, and a LONG ride home Sunday night, back to the ol' grind Monday.
Pictures then, I promise, but first, witness my new sig graphic:
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