[My Triumph Thunderbird didn't look all that bad on the outside after the wreck. I didn't either.]
The tease: June 24, 2005 Day Planner entry, after the fact: "Hit deer - totaled bike - ended at Trauma Unit, UVA Hosp, Charlottsville, 2 1/2 days - bad scene all around."
What you may have missed:
Part One: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/19/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_part_one
Part Two: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/20/motorcycle_memories_oh_deer_part_two
Part Three: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/21/motorcycle_memories_oh_deer_part_three
Part Four: http://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/02/22/motorcycling_memories_oh_deer_part_four
One thing we learn and then usually forget quickly is that in life we never know what is going to happen to us around the next bend. I think that is a good thing because if we remember and dwell on the bad things that have happened to us and to people close to us we worry about them happening to us in the future. And if we do that we become paranoid, afraid of everything, drawn into ourselves, reclusive.
Life is risk. Yes, some things we do are more risky than others, and some people like to live further out on the edge than others, always pushing the envelope. But, if life is to mean much at all each of us has to push that envelope now and then. To not do so is to live a very dull life. At least that is my take on it.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Since we had ridden the highest mountain roads around Marlinton and were going to take high mountain back roads on the way home, we decided on our last day in that area to ride primarily in the valleys. Then, when we got back to Marlinton we were going to have those great steaks at the Road House bar and grill and lift a glass of tea in celebration of Sue's 50th birthday anniversary.
The day broke sunny and clear. A perfect day for riding. There was a light fog in the Greenbriar River Valley that was quickly burning off as we organized our bikes and saddled up for a leisurely, quiet ride.
We headed out of Marlinton on WVA 39 going east. Our plan was to go over the mountain into the first valley, and turn south at the first decent asphalt road beyond WVA92, which we had already ridden on the way back from White Sulphur Springs.
We didn't care which road because all of the valley roads ran essentially north to south and we would eventually come out at I-64 which ran east and west over the mountains. From there we would follow the interstate east over the next mountain to Covington, Va and take US220 back north to route 39, which would take us back into Marlinton. We figured about 150 miles of leisurely sight seeing.
After we topped the mountain and were in the wide valley beyond we noticed two bikes rapidly approaching us from the rear. I was riding lead and Sue was riding a hundred feet or so behind me. The two bikes settled in behind Sue and I figured that they would pass us in the next straight section of the road since we were riding slowly.
When they got close enough I noticed that they were two couples riding what looked in the rear view mirrors to be new BMWs. They certainly had more than enough power to quickly scoot around us. We passed WVA92 and I started looking for a good road to turn south on. It was several miles before I saw one that looked good.
I paid no attention to the route number, really didn't care, and did not know if we had ridden into Virginia or not. I was looking for a particular type of road, not for signs. We turned off and headed south. (As best I can piece it together after the fact we must have been on VA 600.)
I could not understand why the BMW riders had not yet passed us. They had plenty of chances to do so. When we turned on the much narrower road they were still shadowing us. Maybe they thought I knew where I was going. Whatever. Ironically, their following us turned out to be a blessing.
We had ridden several miles down the road which was winding and had a number of right angle corners. The mountains rose up on both sides in the distance but the valley was wide with scattered farms. The views were sometimes of grazing cattle and hay fields, some corn and wheat fields, and a lot of patches of woods that would come right up to the road.
Some of those woods were so close to the road that there was almost no shoulder of the road at all. Our speeds were slow, never more than 50 mph and often less. We had just come through some open farm country and had entered another patch of woods with trees and bushes crowding the road, but with open farm land just beyond the narrow woods. The next picture shows the scene.
[The scene of the accident. I ended up just past where the men are standing beyond the truck on the right side of the road.]
I was enjoying the scenery and the next thing I knew I saw a light brown flash of something big hit the front wheel of my bike. (We are still not sure which direction the deer came from. Sue thinks from the left, and I was sure it did for a long time. But the damage to the bike was mostly on the right side which would indicate it more likely came from the right. Plus, the deer ended up, dead, on the far left side of the asphalt road which also would indicate it came from the right. We likely will never know for sure.)
In any case, the impact sent the front wheel into a fully locked turn, causing an abrupt deceleration of the bike, in turn causing the rest of the bike to pivot around the triple tree in the front, while lifting the rear end, and me, propelling me over the front of the bike, over the wind screen, onto the asphalt.
In the trade this kind of "off" is known as a "high side." It is the worst kind of crash you can have on a motorcycle because, while you try to hold on to the bars you are thrown high in the air and will disconnect with the bike at some point, hopefully not before it hits the ground, and hopefully you will be propelled far enough in front of the bike that you will not be run over by the bike as it follows you.
At least in my case it is not true that your life flashes in front of you. There is no time. Plus, if you have read about how to survive a high side crash you know that you don't have time to reminisce; you have to think about what you are doing in those few seconds. Either you just give up and let physics take its course, or you do what you can to survive.
I held on until the bike came down and hit the pavement. The bike hit first and I hit something on the bike as I was hurtled over the front of it, probably one of the rear view mirrors. It struck me on the left chest toward the center and high on my breast, almost exactly over my heart.
As I came down I landed on my left shoulder and my right foot slammed full force into the asphalt. All of this time I was sliding forward on my front side on the asphalt at about 50 mph.
I immediately assessed a few things, all of which were to the good. While my chest, shoulder and foot hurt like hell, I was not rolling, which could do a lot more damage. Second, I was not knocked out and while my helmet was being scratched badly on the asphalt I was clear headed and my helmet (and my head!) had not impacted with the pavement.
My best chance was to stay sliding on my stomach and spread eagle my arms and legs so that I would not tumble but just slide to a halt. And I had to keep my head up when I did that or my face shield would quickly be rubbed away, exposing my face to be sandpapered by the asphalt. So that is what I did.
All of this happened in a matter of a few seconds. And nobody can tell me that you can't think and react in a situation like that. You can. What you can't do is wait until it happens to figure out what you might try to do. You have to know what to do because you have studied what you would do if it ever happened to you. I have. And it paid off in my case this time.
I continued sliding for well over a hundred feet and unfortunately my trajectory, which I could not alter, was heading me closer and closer to the shoulder of the road. The bad luck was, as you can see in the picture, while most of that shoulder was grassy I missed the grassy shoulder and ended up sliding the last thirty feet or so on a gravel wayside used by the farmer who owned a hay field on the right side of the road.
My safety padded shoulder and elbow riding jacket saved my shoulders and elbows for more harm than I sustained, but the double layered perforated textile summer mesh let in small pieces of gravel which penetrated my t-shirt and then me. I would be picking road rash gravel out of my chest for a few months.
I came to a stop in a cloud of dust and said a thank you to the guy upstairs that I was still alive. I remember saying, "I guess you aren't done with me yet." Before anyone could get to me I sat up. The pain in my shoulder was excruciating. I knew it was dislocated.
Very shortly Sue ran up to me and asked me how I was. I had, at some point, realized that a deer had run into my bike and the response I gave her was "How is the deer?" Wrong answer. Sue seldom screams at me but this time was the exception. "The hell with the deer! I want to know how you are!" I said, "I'm OK. But my shoulder is dislocated and the pain is way too much."
About then the two couples on the BMWs ran up and one of the men was insisting that I lay down. I said just give me a minute to get my thoughts together and I will. What I really meant was give me time to stop the pain in my shoulder which was so bad I thought I would pass out.
The two couples were talking to one another about what to do next. Sue was crouched down next to me, shaking, worried, crying softly. I took my left arm and bent the elbow as far upward as possible, my fist resting above my collar bone. I leaned my head to the left and caught my fist under my jaw making my arm as stable as possible. I took my right arm across my chest, grabbed my left elbow with my right hand and shoved the elbow straight up as fast and as hard as I could.
It sounded like a rifle shot. One of the BMW guys said, "What the hell was that!?" Sue looked up at him and said, "I think he just put his shoulder back in its socket."
With that, the other BMW guy said, "Now will you lay down?" My shoulder pain was now manageable and I was starting to feel light headed, likely shock setting in a bit, and I shook my head "yes."
He then did a surprising thing. He came over, gently and slowly leaned me back and rested my head in his lap. It surely didn't seem like a "man thing" to me but I was very grateful.
END OF PART FIVE, THE ACCIDENT, ACT ONE
Next: What was Sue doing when all this started? Where are we? No cell service. Attempts to get help. Ice, and Grandma Kettle's advice. A long wait. Sue and I ride in an ambulance to where? And who was going to take care of our bikes?
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