Wednesday, October 15, 2008
I did a bang up job...
I haven't done an entry in a bit due to a small injury... typing has been difficult to say the least.
If you are wondering why I have the first photo its because of the 2ND photo.
The second photo is because of the large orange traffic barrel in the back ground.
"Damn zeke how did you not see that?"
OK it wasn't the barrel but the chain that is hanging off of it.
Let me explain:
Set out for the normal Saturday road ride with Bryce (OK not real normal but that is a long embarrassing story I will save for later when/if it is resolved)
We were getting a late start and headed north towards downtown and the bar district
We were (and did) going to hit the Westport area because being one of the big bar districts in town it was hosting a team pub crawl for raise money for cancer awareness.
Seemed like a good place to go and have a mid ride beer and to people watch.
We came in to the Westport area the "back way" as I have done many times.
There is a parking lot I normally cut through that has a chain across the entrance to keep people from parking in the businesses lot. This chain is always there and I know it but alot of times there is a gap to slip through with out having to dismount. I've done it before.
As I lead the charge down the hill I was squinting ahead looking at the parking lot entrance. I could see the giant orange barrel (who couldn't?) and I could see the chain stretching from the pole on my left to the barrel in the center. From the perspective I had it didn't appear to continue from the barrel to the other pole on the my right.
This is where I made my mistake.
I, in all my one eyed glory, trusted what I saw; not what I knew to normally be true.
I let off the brakes and accelerated down the rest of the hill and over the curb thinking I would sail smoothly into the parking lot...
Such was not the case.
The chain was there... hidden in the asphalt background
I saw it too late and grabbed two hand fulls of brake as I plowed into it at 20+ MPH.
The bike hit the chain dead on in the center of the head tube, the chain broke loose from the pole on my right but not before the combination of me trying to stop and the chain trying to stop me brought the rear of the bike up off the ground pitching me over the bars.
I hit the ground HARD hands first and crumbled in to a painful pile on the tarmac while my rear wheel continued in its upward and forward arc sending the bike flipping over the chain to bounce off the saddle and then go skittering across the pavement.
I had stopped sitting up right and was a little dazed and confused. I hadn't hit my head, my hands, forearms and left side took the brunt of the impact but I hurt all over.
Bryce appeared next to me with a: "Shit! You alright?"
He said as we approached the chain (he could see it where as I couldn't for some reason) that he kept waiting for me to slow down and stop. Much like me by the time he realized I wasn't going too it was too late to yell out in warning.
It was my own fault, I simply couldn't see the chain.
I wobbled to my feet, feeling pain shooting across the left side of my body, to check the damage to my road machine (Surly Pacer)
At first I was really upset with what I found because not only was the saddle bent almost 90 degrees to one side the wheels wouldn't spin through the brakes leading me to believe I had trashed the wheel set.
Turned out to not be true.
Between the brakes being knocked all katty wompass and the levers being twisted in and down the extent of the damage was the saddle and head tube badge (which was pushed up the head tube and left crumpled in almost a ball but still stuck in to the frame).
Much love for 4130 CroMo! Not even a dent in the head tube, my full carbon fork seemed to be OK (I had it double check today at the shop to be sure).
A couple of minor adjustments and with the exception of the saddle and my acheing body the bike was very rideable.
Bryce offered to buy me a beer as a pain killer for giving him a show which I gratefully accepted.
We soft pedaled up to the bar and locked out bikes.
I ran into Sam the manager of Buzzard Beach and he set me up with a bar towel and some ice for my wrists and hands.
I played tough guy for the rest of the day as we wandered Westport being social. I sipped water, drank a couple of beers and kept a smile on my face while shaking off peoples concern about my battered apperance while tried to stay active so I wouldn't tighten up.
After a few hours of that and short pedal over to our pratically mandatory Saturday stop at Galhollie's I realized I really, REALLY need to go home.
After Bryce and I parted ways I was alone for the first time and my tough guy front crumbled.
The pain and agony I had ignored all day took over and it was all I could do to hang on and turn the pedals hard enough to get home.
Things only got worse from there.
Road rash in the shower hurts and I always forget until that water spray hits.
I showered and then spent sometime trying to find a comfortable way to lay on the couch.
A friend I had spoken to about the incident earlier in the day swang by with ibuprofen (which I didn't have) and some ice cream (which I didn't have either).
I had to be a pretty pathetic sight. I couldn't even eat the ice cream.
Between my sore hands and wrists I couldn't hold the container and push hard enough with the spoon to scoop any out... my friend took pity and fed me some.
Thanks darlin', you rock.
By ten I was ready to crash but once again struggled with finding a comfortable way to lay in bed. Plus I also got concerned with sleeping although I needed it.
I still, in a way, had myself convinced that a good nights sleep was all I would need to set me right. Then the next day, with alot of supportive tape on the wrists, I would be ready, painful but ready, to rock the Chris Cross cyclocross race.
It seems like it could happen and in the morning when I woke up for a minute I thought it might. Then I moved and my wrists started screaming at me.
Nope, no race today.... damnit.
I still tagged along with Mr. Joshua and his lovely wife to do some bell ringing, cheering, and beer swilling at the cross race. It was good times and for his 2ND cross race ever Mr. Joshua held his own quite well.
Maybe he did a little bit too well...
According to him I need to heal up before the BLVD Cup this weekend so he feels better about kicking my ass.
Hummmm.... sounds like a challenge I am willing to accept