gregintornadoalley
Member
This was a couple years ago (only reason I bring it up is I found a disc of old pics while restoring my computer).
I had an R1 that was slightly modded (not that it needed to be, it was evil fast). There was this road trip from Austin to Kerrville, Texas that we would take that was all windy roads (one of them was called 'The Devil's Backbone'). I was with 3 other friends on R1s and was leading the trip. Going down this one windy 2-lane I got too far ahead (they didn't know the way) so I let off the gas (doing about 165 at the time). I sit up and just let the bike coast as I look in the mirror waiting for them to catch up. The bike is coasting, now going about 140, and I'm still looking in the mirror.
I look up just as I crest this little hill and have one of those slow motion "oh, ****" moments where my sphincter tightens and I see there is a little right-handed-downhill curve over the crest. I could have easily made it, but I panic and grab wayyy too much front brake and the bike immediately goes down out from under me. I end up surfing the bike over the hill and into the cattle fence, taking out a road sign with my foot. The bike finally stops sliding, and I keep rolling until I hit the fence. As I'm writhing in pain and taking a mental inventory of myself, my buddy crests the hill (funny thing is, over the sound of the sputtering R1 next to me I hear "oh ****", don't ask me why that stands out in my memory).
He runs over to me, sees that I'm alive, and runs back to kill my bike. He comes back to me as I'm trying to get my helmet off, and that's when I feel this squishy feeling in my right ear. He's begging me not to take the helmet off, and as I lift my faceshield, he says "dude, I don't want to scare you, but you're bleeding out of your ear". great.
The older lady who owns the property apparently heard the commotion, so she comes out and calls 911. The cops show up, and I think I'm fine. I don't want to go to some hospital 5 hours away from home, so I refuse the ambulance. The sherrif says he can make me go, so I go. After the bumpiest 30 minute ambulance ride ever, I get to the hospital and find out the problems.
Tally:
all 5 toes and the next bones in left foot broken (meta-tarsals?)
both ankles broken (right one mildly fractured)
ruptured ear drum (most painful of them all)
road rash out the wazoo (blue jeans, a leather jacket, and doc martens were the protection)
8g damage on the bike
demolished helmet
3 months sitting at home watching old movies wishing I was riding
remember kids, speed doesn't always kill.
I had an R1 that was slightly modded (not that it needed to be, it was evil fast). There was this road trip from Austin to Kerrville, Texas that we would take that was all windy roads (one of them was called 'The Devil's Backbone'). I was with 3 other friends on R1s and was leading the trip. Going down this one windy 2-lane I got too far ahead (they didn't know the way) so I let off the gas (doing about 165 at the time). I sit up and just let the bike coast as I look in the mirror waiting for them to catch up. The bike is coasting, now going about 140, and I'm still looking in the mirror.
I look up just as I crest this little hill and have one of those slow motion "oh, ****" moments where my sphincter tightens and I see there is a little right-handed-downhill curve over the crest. I could have easily made it, but I panic and grab wayyy too much front brake and the bike immediately goes down out from under me. I end up surfing the bike over the hill and into the cattle fence, taking out a road sign with my foot. The bike finally stops sliding, and I keep rolling until I hit the fence. As I'm writhing in pain and taking a mental inventory of myself, my buddy crests the hill (funny thing is, over the sound of the sputtering R1 next to me I hear "oh ****", don't ask me why that stands out in my memory).
He runs over to me, sees that I'm alive, and runs back to kill my bike. He comes back to me as I'm trying to get my helmet off, and that's when I feel this squishy feeling in my right ear. He's begging me not to take the helmet off, and as I lift my faceshield, he says "dude, I don't want to scare you, but you're bleeding out of your ear". great.
The older lady who owns the property apparently heard the commotion, so she comes out and calls 911. The cops show up, and I think I'm fine. I don't want to go to some hospital 5 hours away from home, so I refuse the ambulance. The sherrif says he can make me go, so I go. After the bumpiest 30 minute ambulance ride ever, I get to the hospital and find out the problems.
Tally:
all 5 toes and the next bones in left foot broken (meta-tarsals?)
both ankles broken (right one mildly fractured)
ruptured ear drum (most painful of them all)
road rash out the wazoo (blue jeans, a leather jacket, and doc martens were the protection)
8g damage on the bike
demolished helmet
3 months sitting at home watching old movies wishing I was riding
remember kids, speed doesn't always kill.
