My Crash Story
My Crash Story
Hi,
For those of you who joined us late, and to bring this story full circle, here is a reprise of my crash story.
Hello friends,
This is in regards to the events which occurred on Angeles Crest Highway, June 20, 2009.
I'll preface with the emotional state I was in during the minutes following my accident. I think it's
important. I know that if you're alone when you have an accident, especially an injury accident, it
will be different. I'm fortunate and thankful that I was riding with a group of friends.
Right after my mishap I was full of embarrassment. I was on the ground thinking, "I'm a better
rider than this. I've taken tighter turns at faster speeds. I've dodged rock slides on mountain roads
before. I've been able to recover when my rear wheel slid out. What a jerk!"
As my friends were gathering around me I was full of guilt. "I'm sorry guys. I didn't mean to ruin
your ride today." I must've apologized at least two times every minute for the next half hour. I
didn't want my friends to hate me for ruining the ride. Finally my friend, "Harley" Joe, just told me
to SHUT UP! I needed to hear that. I finally stopped apologizing to everybody.
Then on the way to the hospital, self-loathing and self-deprecation set in. "You IDIOT! You KNOW
how to take that curve! You're such a hypocrite, telling people how to ride and how to fix their
bikes when you're such a ROOKIE IDIOT! Now look what you've done! You've just ruined that
motorcycle you're so proud of, you've gone and hurt yourself, caused all of these people (rescue
workers) a whole lot of trouble to get you off the mountain, and you've ruined the day for all of
your friends!"
Obviously I was listening to no one. I wasn't hearing the love and concern they have for me. But
as the time passed, these emotions faded and I started analyzing the situation.
There's really not much to my crash story. I just made a bad decision and a rookie mistake with
regards to a small rock slide in a curve on a mountain road. Those of you who know me know that I
like to take a lot of pictures while I ride. I was NOT taking pictures at the time of my crash. But in
the future I will use my camera mount and not ride one-handed while I shoot. (My new camera got
busted up and the SD card was corrupted somehow. All the pictures and video I took that day
have been unrecoverable so far. But I've still got a couple of tricks left to try.)
The highlights are these; I entered the curve too wide to begin with and suddenly there was a fist
-sized rock right in my path. Instead of diving into the curve like I usually do, I chose to miss the
rock towards the outside of the curve. That decision put me in the gravel and dirt along the very
outer edge of the road. There was time to dive into the curve after I passed the rock, but I kept
looking at all the dirt and gravel there on the outer edge of the asphault, getting a little nervous. A
split second later I was really behind the curve and was thinking, "If I make an aggressive turn
now I'll slide out and low-side." I was so focused on the problem (sand and gravel, proximity to
the edge of the road) that I quit looking at the solution (the proper line through the curve I should
have taken). I panicked, I froze, I just hit my brakes, made a half-hearted attempt to turn, and
skidded off the road. When my bike hit the embankment at the side of the road it almost flipped,
but more like rolled over on its right side and threw me off, kind of like a high-side would.
It actually wasn't a bad place to get off your motorcycle at 45mph. It was a fairly large, flat area
on the upslope side of the mountain with lots of loose dirt, rocks, brush, trash, a few small trees,
etc. As soon as my bike hit the small embankment my face shield filled with dust. I must've
created quite a dust cloud. As I was thrown I just relaxed and tried to draw my limbs in toward my
body so as not to try to catch myself with my arms, possibly breaking them. I flew through the air,
bounced across the dirt, and rolled a few times.
When I came to rest I thought, "Well, that wasn't so bad. I've been hit harder than that playing
football." No one saw me take my tumble. Then everyone behind me in the group started pulling
over and checking on me. I sat up and took off my helmet. It seemed my gear had done its job.
Then I tried to pull my legs under me to stand. My left knee felt really weird. Sure enough, there
was a little hole in the trim just above my knee armor and through my jeans. My jeans had a litte
wet spot where the hole was.
The doctor who was riding with our group administered first aid, cutting off my pant leg and
dressing the wound. He said it looked like I had busted my knee cap. It turned out he was right. I
later found out that my knee cap was shattered into about 12 pieces. He also found a stick to splint
my left pinky finger. Somehow I knew it was broken. It turned out I was right.
I really felt like some kind of big, foolish idiot. I kept apologizing to everybody for ruining the ride.
Finally one of my friends told me to just shut up and relax.
Since there was no cell phone coverage, a couple of guys from the group rode back to Newcomb's
Ranch, where we had just finished lunch, to call an ambulance. While waiting for the ambulance
some Forestry Department volunteers showed up, splinted my leg, put me in a gurney, loaded me
on their truck, and were going to take me to a helicopter landing site for a ride to the hospital.
Unfortunately, while on the way to a landing site, the helicopter was having some kind of power
issue and the pilot was concerned that he would not be able to take off again. So the Forestry
truck turned around and took me back to my original crash site to wait for the ground
transportation. There was no helicopter ride for me. Bummer.
The rest of the story is just a week in the hospital, two surgeries on my knee, a little physical
therapy to get me up and out of bed, a couple of weeks with my hand in a cast and later a splint for
my finger. I had to fight an infection in my knee that I had picked up through the open wound from
the dirty enviornment on the side of the road. My wife had to give me intravenous antibiotics
through a PICC line for almost three weeks. She really didn't like playing nurse. I had a home
nurse stop by every few days to take samples and make sure everything was going OK. It worked
out just fine. The PICC line is gone and I can now take a real shower.
I'm itching to hit the physical therapy hard, anxious to get back as much range of motion as I can.
The doctors say there will always be some residual stiffness in my hand and knee but I think I can
minimize that the harder I work them.
Anyway, that's the gist of it. The lessons I learned are "keep your focus", "use a little extra caution
around blind curves", "focus on the solution, not the problem", "don't be lazy when you should be
more aggressive", "wear your gear", and "don't beat yourself up too much when it happens to
you" because your friends just want to take care of you. That's all they're thinking about.
Ride safely my friends.
Thank you for your indulgence,
BassCliff
Glad to here you are up and about, and none the worse for wear, given what could have been. Jessie is looking good! 
