This is quickly becoming the a website devoted to Steve and his stories…what is up with that? 🙂
On Sunday Steve went down pretty darn hard on a club ride… what follows is his version of the story, a few pictures of his wounds, and then an editorial comment by me as the publisher.. 🙂
Steve’s version:
“Last week, out of the blue, my good friend Bob asked if I was going out on the Willowmere Ride on Sunday. Knowing I hadn’t been out with the club in quite some time, needed to get some miles under the saddle, and Bob asked, I thought it would be just wrong not to go. It’s also a very nice ride with some great scenery and Bob told me we would only do the 33 at a moderate pace.
So, the ride starts with Bob leading us out at nice 18 pace until he drops back to chat with a couple of nice folks riding with us. The pace the picks up to 22 and I have my turn at the front. After pulling for a good bit with some rolling hills, I drop behind the two studs charging down the roads. Waiting for my GU to kick in just after a short stretch of the ride, Bob and another nice gent roll up. I draft off Bob, as usual, to catch back up with the two power houses. Bob takes the lead and, before I know it, we’re at the corner store for a rest at just under the half way point.
A short time later, others begin to roll in, each questioning if this was a ride or a race. At this point, I was feeling pretty good and knowing I’d have a good ride in for the weekend. So we agree to head back out and keep a moderate pace with everyone intact.
Up the hill we go and in under a mile with Bob leading, we’re out ahead of the group once again. I tell Bob all are of the back, and that’s when it happened. I RE-learned a lesson the hard way that moment: always be well aware of what is going on in front of you regardless of what you think would be happening. It is your (my) responsibility as the man off the back tire as lead man is doing just that (leading) and everyone else is watching the rear tire in front of them. Bob went from 25 to a slower speed (?) and pulled off to the left.
Not aware of Bob’s plan, as I evidently wasn’t paying attention as I should have, I went from 25 to 0 (according to my Garmin). His rear wheel met my front wheel and I met the pavement. Longest few seconds of my life in the past ten years. I recall wishing time would stop, along with my bike. I went down and just hoped it wouldn’t hurt as bad as it looked like it was going to.
Watching the road skim by from an inch away, I just wanted it to stop. I then began to wonder how long was I going to keep sliding down the road and what was this doing to my kit and body. I then thought, what is my bike going to look like, should I try to roll? Finally, I came to a halt.
I look up and there’s Bob: “What are you doing down there?” he asks. (okay, I may have imagined that) Bob then, taking charge as the On Scene Commander, helps me up and off the road. He gives me a thorough checking (not sure why I had to disrobe), sits me down. Bob then has one of the others get my bike out of the middle of the road as a car approached.
He then gets me water, and cleans off my wounds to the knee, elbow, and shoulder. Bob checks my helmet, cracked in three places inside yet only scuffed outside, and then inspects my head and starts asking me questions. That’s when the calamity started and the others began to wonder if we were both a bit off. Bob got me to the other side of the rode with the group and we look over the bike. Bob the clicks in and takes my bike for a spin. All seemed to be fairly good, except for the rear wheel, which was well out of true.
Stepping up once again, Bob leads me 12 miles back to the park at about an 18 pace and my bike held together. All things considered, I felt pretty good all the way back, except for when Bob sprayed water on my wounds to keep them clean. I screamed like a girl every time he did it and I think the smile on his face, and I believe I heard some laughter, indicated some joy in the practice. We make it to the park and Bob just had to break out his med kit. More screams from the iodine patches scuffing my wounds and Bob’s joy returns.
The good news is that Bob didn’t go down or get hurt from the collision. Many thanks for a great friend to peel me off the road, get me and my bike sorted, get my spirits up, and get me back to safety. One last check of my faculties, a call to Nurse Tammie, and I was headed home on four wheels with many more safety devices. Had to bale hay as soon as I got home, so that helped take my mind off everything and kept my body moving. Quite the sore body when I woke at midnight and rolled out of bed this morning. Advil has been my friend today.
The heat and humidity kept me inside, but I did make it to the bike shop. Dre went through it while I was there. The rear wheel, which was quite out of true, is pretty good now but probably won’t last much longer. The lever for the front chainring/derailleur, which didn’t do anything, is now somewhat working but he has to take it apart for repair or replace. I’d have to say I’m the luckiest bike owner or that is one tough bike. The Giant is back home and going on the trainer for the next few days. Supposed to do swim/bike/run tomorrow night, but looks like just a “run” if I can.
The results:
pretty red…
That one hurt I suspect
Minor stuff below waist
I finally get to break out my Iraq First Aid kit to rub some iodine in his wounds!
My editorial comments:
I do not remember going that fast…
I do remember Steve saying we had dropped the others and to slow down. I looked over my left shoulder and verified that fact and then started to soft pedal and drift out to the center line to get off the front. That’s when I cross his wheel because evidently he was also out on the left.
I did not really help him as much as he remembers but who am I to correct his memory.
I am glad his bike was not that damaged and that he did not seriously injure himself.
And the best news, thank goodness “I” did not go down when HE HIT me and get hurt! lol 🙂