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| Sunday morning, the day after the crash. Gross! This isn't even all of it, just some of the worst parts... |
Well, last
weekend was sure..eventful.
I had a 60
mile training ride on the schedule. Got
going in the morning, looking forward to finishing up and spending the rest of
the day in Redmond watching Crit racing at Derby Days and Juniors/Masters State
Championship Track racing.
I’ll be honest,
it was a great ride. I had some guy give
me some great encouragement on East Lake Sammamish (telling me I “hold my speed
really well” and that it took him a long time to catch me, etc). Some good climbs, not too worried about
pushing it but feeling strong. 30 miles
in, I turned around at the top of Duthie Hill Road, and figured that there was
more space for a break at the bottom of the hill. “I’ll just go down the hill and then text
Allen I’m halfway, have a gu, and head home.”
So I sped
downhill. The bike lane is pretty
non-existent on the way down, but the curves and speed of the road make it natural
to ride in the road anyway. I was
looking far ahead, planning my line around the bends in the road, and feeling
good. I remember seeing one sign that
said “Welcome to King County” and thinking “oh, I didn’t realize there was a
county line here. Weird.”
I noticed another
sign said the speed limit was 35mph, so I looked down and saw my speed was in
the 35-40mph range. “Good,” I
thought. “It’s fine that I’m in the road
because I’m going the speed limit anyway, so I won’t be in the way of any cars.” In fact, I made sure to keep my speed up, so that I wouldn't hold anyone up; even shifted up and put it in the big gear for the first time ever going downhill, so that I could pedal and keep my speed up there. Lalala, not a care in the world. I was a little thirsty, so made a mental note to be sure to drink plenty of water at
the bottom of the hill.
Remember how
I was looking far ahead? Yeah, that
means that when there’s cracks in the road that run perpendicular to your path,
you really can’t see them. I sure felt
it, though. A sudden, jamming bump (I
thought I hit a pothole), and I felt my rear wheel kick up. That bike is super stiff, and I definitely
felt the shock ricocheting though the frame.
I skidded sideways on my front tire, thinking I could save it and be
fine, but no—the rear wheel eventually flipped up, and I went flying over and
around and slid to a stop.
Mid-slide, I
had a flashback to mountain biking. I
was sliding down the road, I could feel my skin scraping off, and all I could
think of was that this is a lot more like mountain biking. I could see the trails in my mind, and felt like
I was on the Kona. Except on the mountain
bike, the dirt feels a lot softer, and you can roll down a hill. This time, I was sliding down pavement,
wearing nothing but a tri top.
I came to a stop. I tried to figure out what was
happening. Did I really just crash on the road?! Seriously?! No.... There was a car behind me (I
am so, SO thankful that the driver was giving me ample space on the descent AND
that he was alert and able to stop behind me in time), and the driver came running
out. He was obviously horrified, and
really worried about me. I realized my
right foot was still clipped in (I was laying on my left, with my bike still
between my legs), so I got unclipped and managed to stand up. The driver helped gather my bike, all while
asking if I was ok, and if I needed an ambulance.
Adrenaline
rushing, I had no idea what had happened or how I felt. I knew I was beaten up and out of breath, and
noticed my elbow was bleeding. "Must have
gotten my elbow scraped up, oh well" I thought. I leaned up against
the barrier on the side of the road, and insisted (repeatedly) that I just needed to take a break and catch my breath.
“Are you…sure? I mean, really, you look really..like..oh
gosh, no, you really need help.”
There were
passengers in the car, and they were out by then, also trying to help make sure
I was ok. Many offers to call 911, but I
kept saying no, I’m ok, I just need to catch my breath. I think I told one lady to “please, just wait
a minute before you call, I think I’m ok.”
I know they were concerned and wanted to help, but at that moment, I needed to just take a minute to collect myself and not think about anything else or ambulances or anything. I needed to get myself figured out.
Just a couple
minutes after I fell, a police car was driving up the hill the other
direction. The driver of the car flagged
down the officer, who obviously stopped and asked what had happened. She took over, and let the other guy go, as
well as directed traffic since I was starting to cause a back-up.
Meanwhile, I
tried to collect myself. I found my
waterbottle and saddlebag, as well as my speed sensor that had come off my
wheel. I did a lot focusing on breathing, since I
felt so out of breath. Once traffic was
flowing, the officer came to check on me, and said she was calling an aid car
whether I wanted it or not.
I knew I
needed to contact Allen, but didn’t really know what to say. I texted him to call me, and left a message
with him, briefly explaining I had crashed, and that I was banged up but OK,
and told him to call me.
The aid car
came, and they loaded me up and moved just a bit further down the road so that
we weren’t blocking any more traffic. A
couple more police cars showed up, along with the firetruck that always
accompanies the aid car; I think I talked about being embarrassed that I was causing such a big scene, with so many cars and trucks and flashing lights everywhere; I mean, I was just a little biker who had a small tumble, no need for all this! The firemen
gathered my bike and I think even loaded it into their truck, assuring me they
could take the bike to their station to keep it safe if I wanted. Overall, I had a lot of people coming in to
tell me my bike was looking ok, aside from a rear flat. :) I was happy they understood that that was the
important thing I was most concerned about, since I myself felt relatively ok and just sore.
The medics
looked me over, checking my spine, neck, pelvis, ribs, feet, collarbone (I told
them I knew what that felt like, and that it wasn’t broken), lungs, head, and everything
else. They took my pulse and measured
the O2 in my bloodstream… “98% and 62bpm…yup, you’re a cyclist!”
After
checking for a concussion (I did hit my head, but my helmet definitely did its
job!), they wrapped up my arm which was still bleeding a ton. Unfortunately, the other major areas didn’t
lend themselves to wrapping (shoulder/back and upper thigh), so they let them
be. They told me that they always err on
the side of caution, and that they would like to take me to the hospital just
in case, but that it was my choice. I
said no. I made sure there wasn’t
anything in particular they were concerned about and would have the hospital
check, but they said it would be just “in case” something started to go wrong; I
took my chances and figured it I started feeling terrible all of a sudden, I
would go to the hospital.
One of the police
said he would stay with me there, as Allen was on his way to come get me. He offered to take me to the station to wait,
but that was out in Fall City even further, and I had already told Allen where
I was and just wanted to keep things easy.
So I was let out of the aid car, thanked everyone profusely for all
their help, and sat on the side of the road with my bike.
Plenty of
cyclists passed me, heading up the hill: some would turn and stare at me, since
I was bloodied up with ripped up clothes, and a police escort; some would very pointedly
ignore me and not look at me at all; one asked if I was ok. I kind of laughed, and said “yeah, I’m fine..”
and when he kept looking at me in disbelief, I added “just be carefully coming
down hill” he nodded solemnly, and kept going.
I sat and
waited. I stood and waited. Sitting down meant getting dead grass stuck
in my open wounds, but standing up meant my back muscles would seize up. Everything was starting to hurt, but from
what I could tell, it was just muscular soreness from coming to an abrupt stop
on pavement; nothing felt particularly out of place, or wrong, and the pain
wasn’t sharp or unusual. I did a few
look-overs of my bike, and was relieved that everyone seemed to have been telling
the truth: it would need further evaluation, but there was nothing glaringly
obvious. I was sure that the drivetrain would be mangled, but all that had happened was the chain came off (and one of the police or firemen had actually put it back on for me while I was in the aid car, how nice!) and otherwise, not even a scratch on the derailer. The entire cockpit was jammed
down, but that could be adjusted back into place; otherwise, there wasn’t a
scratch on the frame itself.
The carbon on
the front of the brakes was all scuffed up.
Definitely not aesthetically pleasing, but at first glance, didn’t seem
to be too bad or affect function. The
only thing I could see was a slight spot on the front near the scuffed-up brake
levers, where it looked like there might be a crack in the carbon. Or maybe it was the clear overcoat that just
was cracked. Or maybe it was just
hairline crack that was nothing to worry about.
Or maybe the entire right side was about so snap off and needed to be
replaced and oh gosh, stop looking, Rosanne! Not much to do about it now.
(I did take
another look at my bike last night; I brought the bars back up, and checked the
rest of the bike again—not even a scratch on the frame. Still worried about the potential crack, but
will have someone else take a look. I
tried putting some weight on it to see if I could feel any give, but it was
kind of hard to tell in my current state.
The only other thing I found was that the rear wheel is all bent. Not sure if it can be trued, but in any case,
that likely contributed to the crash. I’m
guessing that the big bump ended up bending the wheel, which in turn caught the
brake and flipped me over. The tire
deflated along the way, so something definitely hit it hard. Alternatively, it got bend while flipping through the air and crashing to the ground...)
And that’s
the story. Now I’m here, bored, but also
beaten up and not able (or really wanting) to do much of anything. Seafair triathlon next weekend is off. This is really depressing, and I’m trying not
to think about it. Even Nationals is
questionable, but we’ll see how soon I can start swimming again—fingers are
crossed. I hate seeing each day go by,
and a big fat “zero” for my training that day.
I need to get my bike fixed, get a new helmet, get new shoes (also destroyed),
and new shorts since my favorite pair are now ripped to shreds on the leg. I also need new skin, please.
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| The offending crack in the road. Fix this, King County! |
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| The helmet that saved me. So thankful it did it's job!! |
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| All jammed down; I have since re-aligned it and looks much happier :) |
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| The most damage on the left side. I can thank the entire left side of my body for protecting the bike. Judging by me left leg, it certainly saved a lot. |
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| Potentially the most worrisome, if this is truly a crack, and truly a problem. |
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| Aside from the protential crack issue, this is the worst of the damage. Not pretty, but so far the brakes appear to work just fine. |
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| 3 days later - back |
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| 3 days later - arm |
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| 3 days later - leg (upper) |
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| 3 days later - leg (lower) |
