Really...you have
no excuse - put on the helmet! I don't care if I hurt anyone's feelings by saying that not protecting your head is the stupidest thing to do on your bike. Modern bicycle helmets weigh next to nothing,
and they are very well ventilated. If you are worried about “looking dorky” or “messing
up your hair”, how great are you going to look with tubes sticking out of your
body? And imagine how bad your hair will be after laying around for weeks in a
coma!
There is no reason
you should be on a bike anywhere without one. The chances of an accident have little to do with the
distance you are going or the speed at which you are travelling. Anything can
happen, and you are not always the one in control of what will occur.
I think
of all the families cruising around down at the shore in the bike lanes not wearing helmets, as though the relaxed atmosphere of the shore prevents drivers from being idiots - those painted lines are not a protective wall. There are plenty of other bad cyclists, such as the morons riding the wrong direction towards traffic, and beach-goers crossing the streets to cause problems as well.
I also regularly see
people out on the local trails with their helmets resting on the handlebars, as
if they are safe, now that they are away from cars. Glad the bars won’t be
scratched when a branch gets caught in their front wheel and sends them
cartwheeling through the air. I immediately think
of all of the squirrel, groundhog and goose scares I’ve had over the years –
and don’t forget those wonderful earphone-wearing joggers who love to do
unexpected U-turns!
The helmet isn’t an inconvenience, it is protection -
and believe me, when something happens and your head takes an impact, you will appreciate that you were
wearing one.
Saturday I set off
on a 50-mile loop out to Perkasie and back, a bit discouraged by the gusty winds
that seem to be an almost constant companion this spring. I was happy that the
direction was seldom straight into my face, but that can cause other
complications, as I would find out later.
The route I take
has terrain that is up and down the whole way out, with a nasty climb at the
turnaround point. I then ride a ridge which is nearly-flat to downhill almost
all the way back. Closer to home there are some final leg-sapping hills, but by
then I’m nearly done, so it’s motivating to get over them quickly.
At about the 35
mile mark I was on a narrow section of road, sharing the lane with passing cars
and fighting the wind on my right side. With little room to go anywhere, I
ended up hitting some broken pavement and drifted towards the shoulder.
Well, there really was no
shoulder, only a drop-off into a hole about a foot deep. The front tire popped,
and I lost control, careening off to the right into a ditch, culvert, gully,
death-trap – whatever you want to call it – about six feet down.
If I had the experience of a racer and frequent crashes, I may have reacted by “laying down” with a proactive crash to avoid the drop. I have heard that it is important to stay with the bike, as it can take much of the impact on your behalf, and in extreme falls (such as ravines, etc.) a bike can even save your life by hooking trees to stop you or at least slow you down.
My descent unfolded in dreadful slow-motion, as I anticipated how much this was going to suck/hurt. I recall hearing the whole way down, like some bizarre background music, the hiss of the tire deflating.
I had a vice grip
on the brakes, but with the severe drop and loose ground involved, there really
was no stopping. As I reached bottom, the front wheel dug in, and I was propelled onto
my chin, getting a mouthful of dirt, small gravel and pine needles.
Because I’ve had
dental injuries in the past that have taken a while to correct, I first rolled
my tongue around to feel that my teeth were thankfully all there. My stomach turned
a little when I felt a gaping cut way
down inside my lower lip and thought I had bitten through it. I spit out a large
glob of miscellaneous gunk and blood, then rolled over and yelled “Help!” halfheartedly, realizing no one was going to see me down in this ditch.
I crawled up on all
fours and waved at a couple cars that unbelievably just kept going, then
someone stopped and jumped out of her car. I do remember Ashley’s name, though I don’t
recall much that I said in return, but I had a Road I.D. bracelet and simply pulled it
off to hand to her. I had it together enough to tell her I was relatively
okay, so that Sue wouldn’t be unnecessarily panicked with the call.
The first response
person – I’m pretty sure he was a policeman named Darryl – was thorough
checking me out as I laid on my back with my eyes closed because of blinding, salty sweat/sunscreen
running into them. He kindly took some gauze from someone’s car first aid
kit and wiped my eyelids clean so that I could see him. He told me my mouth
was bloody and I had small cuts and scrapes on my face, including one on my
nose from the sunglasses. Because I had crawled out of the trench, he knew I
wasn’t paralyzed, but he told me to remain on my back and had me squeeze his
fingers.
He gently felt my
jaw near my ears and asked about pain, but the only thing I was feeling was my
excruciating lower lip. He then felt around my head and lightly behind my
neck, “How about here?” I told him that it felt good, and he could keep doing
that. He laughed as I told him I have some arthritis in my neck and the jolt
may have loosen things up a bit.
I could hear the
ambulance arrive, and soon a very nice young man named Colin crouched down by my
head and looked me over as Darryl reviewed what he had observed and the answers
I had given to his questions. Colin asked for a few more details, looked inside my
mouth and told me it would really be a good idea to have my jaw and mouth
examined at the hospital. He then made sure Sue would meet us there instead of coming to the accident
scene.
As they were
bringing out the gurney Colin asked how far I had been riding and where, as he
is also a cyclist. Just as any fellow cyclist would know, the bike’s
condition is always a concern. After making sure it was retrieved/secured
somewhere temporarily, he told me, “The bike looks okay, too!” I found out later that Colin actually had put it into the ambulance with us.
Because I responded well to all their tests and assured them I could move well enough, they helped me to my feet. I'm sure they also considered that it was easier for me to get to the gurney than get it down to me. At this point I took a glance into the gully and saw the obvious divot I had made in the ground below. I also took note of a nasty pile of broken brick and rubble about a foot from where I face-planted - I'll choose not to consider the consequences of that landing!
On the way
to Pottstown Hospital he hooked me up to an IV and gave me some much needed painkiller.
Knowing I lived nearby, Colin told me he was a frequent Bikesport customer, we
shared our appreciation for the fantastic guys over there. Despite my lips becoming
increasingly swollen, I filled him in on my bicycle business. I later had Sue give
him a business card and told him I would take care of him if he needed any
repairs, or if he needed a deal on a new or vintage ride!
What I may remember
most about the hospital was lying in the bed with my muscles all contracting.
It may have been some form of shock, but it felt like my body was trying to do
a stomach crunch, sit-up, leg lift-type maneuver all at once - sort of an
all-over cramping. I wasn’t cold at all, but I began to shake uncontrollably,
and my teeth starting chattering, which REALLY hurt my messed-up mouth!
I was hoping not to
make Sue and Carrick panic, and I took deep breaths trying to calm down. Sue lightly
rubbed my forehead, which usually
works like the paralysis-inducing stroke of an alligator’s belly, but it was producing
little effect at this moment. At one point the two of them gently held my
ankles in an attempt to stretch me out and relieve the agonizing body clench. The
pain killers finally kicked in to help settle me down.
The oral surgeon
arrived to clean out the debris that was still in the deep wound and explained
that I had a “degloved” injury where the lower lip was torn from the jaw at the
gum line. I was dreading the injection of novacane into my lip, as I know from
plenty of dental experience how that can sometimes sting badly, but whatever had
been given to me already softened the pain of the needles going in.
As this was the
first time the assistant had seen this specific injury, the doctor calmly
explained how he was pulling the tissues together with symmetrical stitches, “tacking”
the middle first and then each opposite side back to the middle. He also
mentioned how mouth injuries like this should not be closed completely, so that it can
drain and not form a hematoma. It was interesting to listen to, but as Sue peeked in quickly to see what they were
doing, she confirmed that I would want no part of seeing what they were up to. “It
was pretty gruesome, dude!”
After a CT scan,
just to double-check my head, I picked up the Percocet (VERY necessary, I’ve
found out) and penicillin prescriptions, I was on my way home. It was around
11:00 PM at this point, and I hadn’t eaten since my mid-ride snack, so I was
very hungry but couldn’t imagine chewing. Some homemade chicken rice soup and a
milkshake turned out to be the perfect solution. Sue stocked up on some
applesauce, pudding and other foods with low-chewing factors, which I would need for
the next couple of days.
As far as recovery,
it will take a while before all the feeling comes back to my lower lip, as some
nerves were severed, so I am sort of mumbly, but my speech is generally pretty
understandable. It doesn't feel that great to talk right now anyway, so I'll
choose to be on the quiet side for the time being.
The whole “wrap-up”
to this story is that when we collected my belongings, we noticed the helmet
was compressed all along the front edge, and on the right forehead area was a
dent about half an inch deep.
Without the helmet I can assume the bridge of my nose wouldn’t have just gotten
away with a scratch caused by sunglasses, and I really don’t want to know what
that dent would have been like on my skull!
By the way, it is
the law in Pennsylvania that children under twelve wear a helmet while riding a
bicycle – if you haven’t already, step up and become a responsible parent by
telling your kids they are not allowed to ride without one. Just like anything
in life, start them early with good habits. It’s all about safety, keeping your
body in good working order, and in some cases just staying alive!
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