from a good one to a very bad one

I just got back from a recovery ride, one I really needed after the century ride (CAM #6) that the usual suspects and I rode yesterday. Before I give more of a description of the ride, one I hated, I'm going to briefly describe what happened that changed the day entirely from a good one to a very bad one.



A fellow cyclist, community member and jovial man, Peter, experienced a very serious crash around mile 33 of the ride. His bike fell apart beneath him (no other way of explaining it), something so freak and unexpected, he didn't have a chance. Jason, who was behind him went down as well, but was lucky enough to avoid any serious injury. I suppose, in situations like these, you have to count your blessings, and I'm truly relieved Jason escaped true harm as I know his sweet wife, Lisa, was. Peter wasn't as lucky.

I did not witness the actual crash, only the aftermath. Something I was deeply moved by as I came upon the crash (I was the last person to arrive as I had stayed behind to wait for another rider) was the incredibly kind motorists who'd stopped, slowed traffic to ensure Peter's safety and who were attending to him (two EMTs were off duty and came across the crash moments after it had happened - oh, thank goodness!). Two of those motorists even offered to take Peter's bike to the police department for him (they had a truck). The actions of these good Samaritans are those you'd hope all folks would take, but often that just isn't the case. We all thanked them repeatedly, and I personally wished them forever good karma as without them, it would have been a much more dangerous situation.

It didn't take long for the paramedics to arrive, and they took Peter to the hospital. That is all I will report on the incident out of respect for him and his wife. I'm hoping the news will get better and that he'll fully recover. I also hope I never witness any cyclist experience a crash like that again, and I'm so grateful it wasn't worse (which it definitely could have been).

Some things I learned from this experience:

1) Always, ALWAYS, wear a helmet. A helmet made a difference yesterday, trust me on this one. If you ride a bike and you ride without a helmet at any time, I don't want to ride with you, and yes, you're a dumbass. You're not cool, skilled or brave. You're just dumb.

2) Please order Road ID (RoadID.com) and wear it. They are cheap and can save the paramedics valuable time trying to figure out whom to contact, your blood type, allergies, etc. Otherwise, if you are not cognizant enough to answer, you impede your own medical care. Please carry ID with you as well, just in case. This cannot be stressed enough.

3) If you ride in remote areas alone, please stop doing it. Really. If what had happened yesterday had been in a remote setting with no other riders around, it would have been catastrophic for Peter. Cycling is already such a risk, why put yourself in greater potential danger? Think about that.

4) Give your cell number to somebody on the ride and make sure folks know where you are. Also, look out for others. I understand that everyone is responsible for his/her own safety, but it sure doesn't hurt to be checking on other folks. Wouldn't you want someone to give a damn if you make it back okay? (note here: this is not a comment about the ride yesterday, as folks did look out for each other all day long, but more something that occurred to me because of yesterday's ride)



Now, as for the ride itself and my personal experience, it went downhill from there, and I hated yesterday's CAM. I wanted to go back after the accident and not continue. It's a personal choice, and by no means a character judgment on those who took off before our smaller group did (Herb, The Lobsters, and another couple). I was the holdup in our group as I was torn about continuing the ride. We ultimately decided to go ahead since there was nothing we could do for Peter at that point. But really, at mile 33 or so is when the ride ended for me. I simply couldn't shake the image of someone I'd ridden next to in the morning, who'd told me how happy he was to be out there and how beautiful outside it was suddenly down on the ground, hurt. My heart really did (and does) go out to him and no fun was to be had for the rest of the day.




To top that off, I was so sick to my stomach (from the nerves and emotional adrenaline) that I ate very little all day. I could barely eat half my turkey sandwich at lunch and ended up throwing most of it out. Cokes were all I could stomach. My legs were like logs, too, barely wishing to pedal, yet I had to hammer at times to catch the group (as did Herb).



Adding insult to injury, we then had 16+ flats throughout the ride. Yup, we had to keep stopping and changing tubes and checking tires (well, Herb and I didn't have a flat, but we still waited for the group). I found myself past the point of frustration and fatigue, almost in a state of ennui all day. Not a safe way to roll! I tried to be upbeat all day and, of course, took a gazillion photos, but my mind was elsewhere. I felt a real sense of dread and unease even as the sun came out to warm us midday.



During the last four miles, I began to seriously bonk and just spun lightly along PCH back to the cars, as the others went ahead. Lucky for me, one of the sweetest cyclists I know, Mad Max, hung back and waited for me. His smile and good humor were a bright spot at the end of a very dark ride. We didn't finish until 5:45pm (good God) and on the drive home, I told Herb that yesterday was the first time on a ride that I have thought to myself, "I'm not sure I want to do this anymore." I know, it was an over reaction to what had happened, but really, the impression that crash had on me will doubtfully go away anytime soon. I've been spooked already due to my own crash last January and hearing of others going down, but this was different.





With all of this said, I still forced myself out on a recovery ride to Woodland Hills and back this morning with the gang (small group, thank goodness). It was gorgeous outside with the bluest skies and softest cool breezes. My legs felt surprisingly strong, and the dread I felt all day yesterday had mostly diminished. I must admit, I was happy to be out there and very aware of how lucky I was to be on my bike this morning.