The One Where I Crashed

There is a saying among riders: it’s not a matter of if you will crash, but when. For me, when was about 10:30a, August 1.

I was riding along River Road in southern Lancaster. It’s beautiful country, but very rural. The road is twisty and scenic, which should make it a good motorcycle road. But it is also old and in bad condition, which makes it dangerous.

Because it’s rural, there is a greater amount of wildlife. One of their representatives, in the form of a large moth, decided to greet me by alighting on my faceshield. While I was riding. I flipped up my modular helmet, hoping that the flow of air would blow him off. But when I brought the front of the helmet back down, he was still there. Only now, I had exposed the inside of the helmet. So, I studied him out of the corner of my eye, trying to bring him into close focus, to decide if he was still outside or (eek!) now inside the helmet, less than an inch from my face. Failing to make that determination, I returned my attention to the road, only to find that the road had begun to curve. My wheels were leaving the pavement. I was drifting onto the long, wet, green grass of the narrow shoulder. Between that shoulder and a corn field was a drainage ditch. I knew the wet grass would make it difficult to turn, but I had to try, now. Sure enough, the tires slid out.

I don’t remember hitting the ground. I did become aware while I was rolling; I thought, “I need to stop myself”, but then thought that stiffening could cause more damage than rolling, and the helmet seemed to be doing its job, so I relaxed again until I came to a stop. In reality, I may have only flipped 1-1/2 times.

It knocked the wind out of me, and I was slow to get up. I wondered if I should lay there until someone found me lying in the grass, my scooter in the ditch. I heard a motorcycle, and looked up. A Harley rider yelled, “Are you OK?” I couldn’t yell back. I just waved him over. I was able to stand up.

He pulled the scooter out of the ditch, and it still ran. Some plastic scratches. A missing fork cover. The headlight came off. “That’ll buff right out”, we joked. Perhaps the fact that it still ran and the gauges and mirrors were undamaged gave me the impression that it wasn’t that bad. He made sure I had a cell phone and that it had coverage, and there was nothing else for him to do. I told him, “Ride safe.”

Faced with the decision to call for help so far from home (which would surely be a big deal and be expensive), and not knowing how badly I was hurt, I decided to ride it home. I knew there was something wrong with my left arm, but I could get to the brake, and that was all I needed it for. Maybe it would feel better soon, after all, I was breathing easier now.

I was able to get home surprisingly easy. Some bumps along the way shot pain through my back enough to convince me that, when I got home, I was going to get checked out at the hospital. Accident threads on forums always say to get checked out by a doctor, even if you think nothing is wrong. I was paying for good insurance, and this was the time to get my money’s worth. I parked the scooter in my garage and walked the 5 blocks to the hospital.

Many x-rays later, I got the diagnosis: 3 cracked ribs, a cracked shoulder blade, and a broken collar bone. At least 4 weeks with my left arm in a sling. It’ll probably be 6-8 weeks before I ride again. Oh yeah, and Monday a new surprise revealed itself: I had landed in poison ivy. My left leg, below the knee, is a weepy rash.

I didn’t want to write about this until I had some perspective on it. Even as I was riding home, I was anticipating the question, “Will you ride again?” I wasn’t sure for the first couple days. The main argument against is that it seems irresponsible, considering that I can’t even tie my own shoes right now. But I still believe in scooters as smart transportation. And I would miss it if I didn’t ride.

Maybe I don’t need to tour by bike. If this is crashing a small bike at 30mph, I’d hate to go down on the highway. Maybe I’ll consolidate the 2 bikes to a mid-size scooter. When I can ride again, I’ll fix the scooter and see how it feels.

Meanwhile, I can analyze what I did wrong. I should not have tried to clear my helmet while riding. I should have pulled over and stopped. But I’m glad I was wearing it. It is scratched and gouged, and that would have been my head. Who knows what that would have meant. I have occasionally ridden downtown without a helmet; never again. And I won’t ride until I get another one. Full face again.

And I’ll never ride without a jacket again. I have 2 good protective jackets and protective pants, but I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Stupid. Maybe it wouldn’t have saved my shoulder. That was from the impact. But it would have saved me some road rash. As it is, I was lucky; I didn’t go down on pavement. It could have been worse. Don’t let people tell you that you are over-dressed for a scooter. I began to believe it, and have been reminded it’s not true. You aren’t dressing for the scooter, you’re dressing for the crash. And that can be bad, even at low speeds. If bicyclists weren’t working so hard, I’m sure they wouldn’t wear lycra.