23 Hours

Early Friday afternoon was absolutely beautiful out, perfect riding weather. After work I quickly changed into some jeans and a t-shirt so I could take the X out for a nice ride up and down Hines. I've been on that road so much this season that I have pretty much every turn memorized. The 40 mph speed limit doesn't do much for me, but that along with the knowledge of the road makes it a very safe trip for me....and I am all about safety when on a bike, ask anyone I have ever cornered and lectured.

After I changed clothes, I threw on my steel toe riding boots and headed outside to warm up the X. Rode her down to the front of the driveway, just before crossing the sidewalk, and ran back in to get my full face modular helmet and my heavily padded kevlar coat with reinforced stitching. Both of which are silver and black, match my bike, and are highly visible to other drivers. Safe AND stylish.

As always, getting out of my neighborhood is the most nerve racking thing for me because of how my neighbors drive. In my hood it is very acceptable to stop where there isn't a stop sign, and to blow though intersections when you do have a stop sign. Once I get through the 6 intersections of my hood, I am home free and can start to enjoy my ride. Which I did.

The ride down Hines was so nice. The temperature was perfect for me, there were very few cars on the road, and the sun wasn't crazy bright or hidden the whole time. I had a great time taking in all the lush green scenery, seeing the few people running or riding bicycles, and catching the glimpse of a groundhog on the side of the road. I don't think I stopped smiling the whole time.

I took Hines into Northville and got off at Seven Mile when I was faced with some pretty dense rain clouds just north of me. I made my way back into Livonia, crossing 275 still on 7 Mile because I didn't want to deal with THAT headache on a Friday afternoon. I decide to take Newburgh back to Hines and head home before the rain catches me, but I had plenty of time since the rain was all north of me. On Newburgh I see a CVS at 5 mile where a construction zone begins. I pull in to the lot, run in to CVS to get a mega millions ticket, and then I can turn left on 5 mile and take that to Levan to avoid the construction. I'd also be riding past St. Mary Mercy Hospital, a former employer, and I like to check out their new additions when I go by, since it's pretty rare for me to be right there anymore.

My plans changed when I came out of CVS though. I was still gonna take Levan, but now some rain had moved in south of me, and it didn't seem like I could make to Hines before it started to rain. Now getting a little wet on the bike doesn't bother me at all, but being on Hines when it's raining does. The slightest amount of rain can cause Hines to flood in many parts, and it happens rather quickly. Not an ideal situation for someone on a low-riding motorcycle.

Reluctantly, I decide to take 96 home. It's just before 4pm, so the eastbound traffic won't be too crazy, and I can get home fast enough to avoid the rain. That way I'll be dry when I eat and head to the gym. It'll work out perfectly. Well, even the best laid plans don't always work out the way you'd hope.


Just past Telegraph I was travelling in the left lane with the flow of traffic, somewhere between 70-75 mph. The vehicle in front of me slowed down rather abruptly, and without brakelights, so I checked my blindspot and made a quick lane change as I came off the throttle. When I swung my head forward as I was pulling into the next lane, I saw why he was slowing down. There was a tire in the lane. Not HIS lane, but the lane I was now in. I know my bike very well, and knew she was up for the maneuvering I'd have to do to avoid this tire.

There was no way I was getting back into the left lane, and riding over the tire was out of the question, so I leaned even harder to the right to avoid the tire. I almost smacked into the side of a box truck in the next lane, and leaned back to the left just before that impact. I saw the tire go by my front wheel as I was coming back into the lane, and was beginning to think how lucky I was as I leaned back to the right to stead the bike in the middle of the lane. Unfortunately, my rear wheel either hit the tire or a piece of debris from is and had zero traction when I leaned back to the right. The front end was stable in the middle of the lane, I was stable in the middle of the lane, but the rear wheel just kept going.

I couldn't hold her up, and she started to low-side. Once I felt that, I jumped off to get clear of the bike. Low-siding can pin your leg under the bike, and at freeway speeds it's not unlikely to lose that leg if a heavy bike drags you a long way. Also, a low side can easily turn into a high side if the tires catch on the pavement. Considering I have a brand new tire on the back, and one with great tread on the front, that was a distinct possibility.

Well, jumping off seemed like a good idea at the time....but I guess I didn't consider that I might land in front of that moving box truck. Which I did. Never in my life have I been so happy to hear someone lock up their brakes as I was when I bounced off the pavement (which I went face first into) and saw the truck bearing down on me. It's funny how the mind works in times like these....instead of panicking and losing my shit, I did a quick calculation in my head to try and predict how bad the impact would be if the truck didn't stop in time and hit me. My answer is the same now as then, I would have survived that impact but if I ended up UNDER the truck....

Luckily the truck didn't hit me, and I tumbled across three lanes of rush hour traffic without being impacted by any other vehicles, as far as I can tell at least. My focus was on forcing my momentum toward the shoulder of the freeway so I could get clear as soon as possible.

Once I rolled sideways, diagonally, and end over end somewhere between 10-15 times, I jumped up, dusted myself off and ran to the crash wall to get as far from the traffic as possible. While doing so, I got my helmet off as quickly as I could (not even thinking about possible neck/back injuries I may have sustained and could have made worse) because my face shield was toasted after slamming into the concrete at about 70 mph, and I couldn't see anything through it.

Next came the jacket. I knew I had injuries and would need to get it off sooner or later, so that came off right away. Then I collected myself and talked to some of the witnesses who stopped to observe the carnage, then got one of them to help me pick up the bike from the middle of traffic and move it to the shoulder. Would hate to keep these nice people waiting on a Friday afternoon ya know. Moving the bike is when I realized how hurt I was. I had no leg strength and no use of my right shoulder without severe pain. All I was able to do really was steer the bike and make sure it was in gear when I left it on the side of the road. I also grabbed the key from the ignition so the bike wouldn't disappear on me....that would be just the cherry on top wouldn't it?

Once the bike was out of traffic, I called my mother to let her know I was ok, but that I had crashed and would be going to a hospital for treatment. The guy who helped me move the bike volunteered to call the cops at the same time. I let my mom go somewhat prematurely because I heard the guy talking to the cops say "driving recklessly and crashed". Needless to say, this did not go over well with me, nor any of the other witnesses.

Shock was beginning to set in when I dialed my mother, and it hit me with it's full force in the middle of arguing with the guy who called the cops. I barely stayed conscious, but knew I needed to so I could explain things to the paramedics and in the ER. When I finally got into the rig and undressed, my blood pressure was something like 67/44. I was surprised to hear that....because I just assumed I'd be out with numbers like that. Things became a little bit of a blur at that time. They got me on 12 liters of oxygen and started an IV as they called in to Sinai Grace that we'd be coming in. I also got a phone call to my mom somewhere in there, but my dad answered and could hear in my voice that I was concerned....which he probably hasn't heard since I was nine and sliced open my foot. I can only imagine what my parents must have been going through at that moment.

When we got into the hospital, my blood pressure was still crazy low, but I was able to communicate with everyone there....which is good because I had four people asking me questions at the same time. I believe I answered them all, but I do know that I stressed to them that I had to be able to fly by Tuesday. Looking back at what could have happened, that's kind of funny now....but I was really concerned that I was going to have to drive out to the east coast a night earlier than I was scheduled to fly.

Sometime in this flurry of approximately 15 people caring for me, I overheard one of the doctors getting the story from the paramedic who took care of me in the rig. After hearing that I walking around when they arrived on scene, had moved my own bike out of traffic, then completely undressed myself in the rig, the doc chuckled and said I was a "tough SOB"....to which the paramedic responded, "well, according to his wallet he's a bad MF" and showed him my wallet in my ziploc bag of personal possessions. I started to laugh, but I was interrupted by a surprise check for rectal bleeding. Why does the guy with the biggest fingers have to do that???

Things slowly began to calm down and I kept the trauma team on their toes with jokes here and there, including the one where I took off my O2 mask to offer my assistance to the guy who couldn't get the vain in my right arm for an IV. I felt bad for making fun of him, although I wasn't the only one, but that seemed to give everyone in the room a nice laugh.

When I was completely stabilized and sent off for an abdominal CT and X-rays to my neck and hands, the guy I made fun of was the one assigned to get me through all the tests. Thankfully he was a good sport, and we had some decent conversation throughout.

After the tests were done, I had nothing to do but wait. And wait I did. I was thrown into a corner in the ER between two guys who did nothing but ask for Morphine every 5 minutes. My family was finally allowed in to see me, but with the limited room in the ER, it's only one visitor at a time. My uncle was the first to come back and see me. He's been riding on and off for at least 45 years, and has been flat on his back a few times himself. I know he had to see how I was for himself, but I really think he wanted to prepare my mom for what was to come if it was worse than they had thought. Luckily it wasn't. My uncle quickly went through my belongings to make sure I had everything, and gave me my phone in the process.

My dad came in next and we had a short, but good, visit because he wanted to make sure my mom got back to see me before they started kicking out visitors at shift change.

Answering texts and setting up later texts and phone calls to inform people of my crash and how I was doing helped kill the time until my mom arrived at my bed. Unfortunately for her, since I had to lay flat on my back I was holding the phone up in the air with my arms straight out. When the nurse pointed her to where I was imprisoned, my mother gasped and asked what was wrong with my arms. She couldn't see my phone from that far away, but the nurse knew I was sending texts like a fiend and relayed that info to my mom.

My mother was the only one brave enough to lift the sheet covering my legs to see how they looked. I didn't think it was bad, but I hadn't seen my legs since I was in the ambulance, and that was almost four hours earlier. She had seen much worse on my uncle's legs when they were younger, but I guess as a parent it's still no picnic when you see your child injured like that. Since I couldn't look, she took a picture with my phone to show me. Even with the terrible lighting, I could see that it was just a flesh wound.

Soon after they kicked my mom out for shift change....then they came back to kick her out again when she didn't leave....and finally the third time they came and asked her, she left. My family knew well before I did that I'd be staying the night for observation, so they got out of there since visiting hours for admitted patients was already over. Between them leaving and being moved up to my room, I got a few calls and a lot of texts in. I called the people close to me who I knew needed to hear about the crash from me instead of someone else, and called my cousin Denise who had been COMPLETELY misinformed of my condition and was having a panic attack. Once I assured her I was ok, she calmed down....well, she got as calm as SHE can be anyway.

My last call was to Mark and, of course, was a request for him to do my bidding. My phone was dying so I needed the charger, and I was gonna be there a while so how about a book? And FOOD. It's been more than 12 hours since I've eaten anything. He also offered to bring my laptop for me, but I declined and was really looking forward to the book to tell you the truth even though I had already read it once. I wanted to get to the motorcycle crash in the book, but never did.

Not too long after he arrived my room was ready and I was moved, Mark followed but couldn't keep up with the little dude pushing my bed and slowed us down a bit. After I get settled in I asked for some water and heard the three letters I was dreading come out of the nurses mouth. NPO. Nil per os. Nothing by mouth. Nothing to eat, nothing to drink. The cupcakes and Slim Jim Mark brought me would have to wait.

Things were pretty uneventful from there on out. Mark took off a little while after I got settled in. The nurse came and gave my my first pain pill of the day, only nine hours after my crash, and I went to sleep.

Routine stuff the next day. Checking vitals every couple hours, another x-ray for my shoulder, NO BREAKFAST, no water, reading my book. Boring hospital stuff til about noon when I finally got some food, and a bunch of water. Then a few visitors, and then my discharge. 23 hours after my crash.

Looking back on it all, I know just how lucky I am that this wasn't worse. Walking away from a highway crash after skipping across three lanes of traffic during rush hour is amazing. My kevlar jacket, full face helmet, and riding boots definitely let me get up off the pavement right away....well, that and not being hit by another vehicle after I came off mine. Had I been wearing appropriate gloves and pants for the highway, I'd have lost about 90% less skin while bouncing down the highway, and would only be sore at this point. While I was wearing more, better protective gear than just about anyone else I have ever ridden with, I could have saved myself a lot of agony with just a couple other items.

I've always pressured friends and family to wear more gear, and spend the money to get quality gear. I have even gone so far as to buy a coat similar to my kevlar jacket for a riding buddy as a gift, because I knew he wouldn't do it on his own. This crash, and the extreme contrast between what was covered with top notch gear and what wasn't, will only make me more vocal. If just one person who hears me upgrades just one piece of gear, or covers up something they never covered before, my story has made a difference.

When it comes to crashes, there is a mentality with many bikers that is very egotistical, and borders on stupidity. The more miles and the more years experience you have on two wheels, the more you tend to believe you can avoid the crashes. Now that is true to a point, but it can become a "that wouldn't happen to me" mentality. I have the experience. I ride with safety in mind first and foremost. To be quite honest, I can maneuver both of my bikes better than most anyone who rides....and this happened to me. Had I not been as protected as I was, had I not been able to maneuver my bike almost completely around that tire, had I not been as lucky with traffic stopping, this very easily could have been fatal for me. Even though it wasn't, I still have to worry about this possibly affecting a lifelong dream I am so close to realizing. All because I didn't have the proper pants or gloves for the speeds I'd be travelling.

It won't be too long at all before I am back on a bike, I am already tuning up my other bike so I can ride it while I repair the X, but it won't be til I replace the gear that saved my life. If this crash has shown me anything, it's shown me that I am on the right track. I may not have been perfect in my riding that day, or my decision to get on the highway without the heavy gear, but I was on the right track at least with the gear I did have. There is always room for improvement, and I am thankful to have a chance to do just that.