Day #75 “Mishap Day”
Wednesday October 24, 2007
Knoxville, TN to Harriman, TN
49 miles today (28,468-28,517 the last mile on this bike…)
14,050 miles total
35 states total (+Wash. DC and Canada)
Where do I start to write about this day? It started off pretty normal. I had looked out the window twice during the night just to check on the bike and trailer. Rain was steadily falling both times. But at least everything was covered up, and though damp, would remain relatively dry. I wasn’t in any big hurry this morning, as I figured I had 3 hours (if that many) to Nashville and then 2 more to get to Symsonia in west KY. I went to the continental breakfast and had a waffle and coffee and took coffee back to the room. I showered, dressed, and packed the trailer with the few things I took out of it last night. By 9 I was nearly ready to go but felt a little edgy like I’d had too much coffee. So I went back to the breakfast and had some toast and OJ. While there, I met a couple from St. Louis who had two daughters that live in Oregon! One even lives in Eugene and teaches out at LCC. Her name is Karen and she teaches in the communications dept. at LCC. The other daughter lives in Albany. I think they said they were coming out to Oregon this Thanksgiving for two weeks. They trade holidays between the daughters in OR and a son in SC.
Since riding in the cold and wet on the Blue Ridge, I wanted to find some “handlebar mitts” for the ride to Symsonia and also down into FL in case I ran into more rain. I’ve been hearing it would be a given that more rain is in my riding future. I googled the Yamaha shop the night before and found it next door to a HD shop, both owned by the same folks. I found what I wanted at the HD shop. I installed them in the lot, was able to wear my thinner summer gloves, and off I went. It had sprinkled rain off and on several times in the short distance from the motel to the HD shop. The roads were wet, but not necessarily slick. The last light before the freeway was on an uphill incline, and I actually slid to a stop as the light changed. Yikes. I just didn’t want to chance, beating the light on this 4 lane divided highway. Once I got on the interstate, the trucks were flying. I kept my speed between 50 and 55, a speed I was comfortable with considering the conditions. I had traveled about 25 miles from the western edge of Knoxville, when I decided I wanted to gas up before heading on to Nashville. This is when the little “mishap” (as my friend Rusty calls them) occurred.
I rode the previous two days in rain, fog, wind, and one day on WET LEAVES! Yuk! This day, I was on the freeway, I-40, which was wet, but it was not raining at the time. I had gotten off the freeway and back on one other time previously in the 2 hours I'd been riding. The off ramp was long and straight, with a right turn at the bottom. I could see all the way to the bottom. The posted speed was 45 for the ramp, and it was just a typical straight shot "slow down as you go" off ramp. NO curves in the top end at the freeway. I was doing about 50 mph, having just looked at my trip meter and speedometer, and deciding to get fuel. I noticed the posted speed, and thought I'll just throttle off a little as I go. I remember just tapping the brake two or maybe three times as I exited, or moved to the exit. I would guess both the bike and the trailer had just moved from the travel lane of the freeway to the off ramp lane, and then without ANY warning the bike just went out from underneath me. There was no wobble, no weaving, no vibration, no jerking, no bump or anything to indicate there was a problem. I wasn't speeding, leaning, doing anything I can say attributed to the slide.
As the bike went down, wheels out to the left, I somehow either let go, or was "thrown" (right word?) from the bike. As the bike went down, I was closer to the ground and didn't even feel or notice hitting the ground. I road the off ramp, on my butt (I think), feet first pointing down the ramp. As I was going down I either thought, or said out loud, "Help me Lord Jesus." I wasn't yelling or panicky, but just knew I needed some help here. I saw the bike, with the trailer right behind still in a straight line, go by me. Both the bike and trailer, and me, were moving in a slight angle toward the guard rail. Everything was in slow motion, but my life did NOT flash before my eyes. I remember thinking I don’t want to get caught between the bike and guard rail. I feel like I could count the metal I-beam posts holding up the guard rail as I was sliding by, things were in such slow motion. I saw the bike/trailer pass me, then I looked to the guard rail, back to the bike which had hit the post by now, and I saw the trailer "bounce" straight up in the air as the bike was suddenly stopped by the post. The trailer never flipped over. I then saw the rail as I slammed into it. My right arm was either up already, or I raised it just before impact, and then my body slammed into my raised right arm. The bottom of the guard rail cut my arm about 2" above my wrist bone, on the outer edge of my arm, perpendicular to the bone. I didn't know this at the time. When I came to rest (the bike/trailer already had), I laid my head down on the ground (I was on my back) just to get my bearings. Just within a few seconds I tried to get up...and did! I thought "Wow! What a ride!" My arm was really aching, but I was aware it took the brunt of the impact. My head never hit the ground or the guard rail until I laid it down in the dirt after I’d quit sliding.
An elderly Mennonite couple was behind me on the freeway and had observed the whole thing. As they stopped on the off ramp, and came to my aid, I was up and walking and thinking “I’ve got to make some pictures!” Of all mornings, I put my camera in the opposite saddle bag of normal and it was on the side on the ground. The lady was near me now and was shaking badly and I think crying a little, and the man kept saying "I thought you were dead! I thought you were dead!" I was up and standing by the time they got stopped and got over to me. I took my own helmet and gloves off, but then noticed my right hand was all red (blood) and she helped get my raingear and leather jacket off. Then we noticed my arm and the gash in it. Since then, I can recall seeing the cars and trucks whiz by as they passed the top of the exit ramp. I can’t help but wonder what some of them thought as they passed by. Some probably think they witnessed a fatality. I have to admit that my thoughts at the moment were not on the close call I had, but as I looked on the crumpled up bike, “Darn! How am I going to finish my trip?!” Must be all the adrenaline!
An ambulance was returning from a call they'd just finished up on, and were about 2 minutes behind me on the interstate. I think they came upon us before 911 put out the call to our location. Of course, my time frame is probably all out of whack, but it was quick. The paramedic was taping my arm, the local Kingston police officer was wanting my license, and the elderly lady was still shaking and half crying. About then it just kind of hit me and I said "I've got to lean up against the trailer for a minute." As soon as I did that, out came the gurney, and then the back board. I remember the paramedic (right title?) asking me something about the back board, and my reply was “Will it COST any more?” I mean afterall, I had to save enough money to get back home, right? They put the C collar on me, strapped me to the back board and we were on our way. I had my first helicopter ride AND my first ambulance ride on this trip! The helicopter was MUCH more exciting, and I'm SURE it cost less!!!! On the way in, the paramedic talked with me and he was a biker too! That helped. As we got to the ER, I asked him one favor: "DON'T cut my boots! DON'T cut my boots!" He laughed and told the doctor when we arrived "Oh, and don't cut his boots." The charge nurse in the ER who took me in and cleaned me up also rides with her husband. So I felt like I was surrounded by people who understood "why" I would find the risk worth the reward...
The ER was very busy. They put me in an exam room and got me stitched up. But shortly afterwards they had to move me out because the ambulances just kept coming in. After I got x-rayed (no broken bones) and dressed, the social worker came to see me after hearing about me. I had no wheels, no clothes other than the jeans and tshirt I had on, and no place to go, and no relatives in the area. As much as I could think straight at the time, I thought I needed a rental car to get around. The closest was in the Knoxville airport, about 40 miles away. When I got in the cab, I asked the guy if I could get to the airport for $20-$30, as I had no idea at the time where I was, and no idea where the airport was. He chuckled and said “No, it’s $100 bucks to the airport.” What? “Stop the cab!” I wasn’t about to pay that. I apologized for the trouble I caused him and told him I’d have to work something else out. I had walked about ½ block back toward the hospital when he came back around honking and waving at me. He pulled up and told me dispatch had told him that the hospital was picking up the tab for this. I do remember the social worker telling me that, but in all the details of trying to get out of there, I just forgot about it.
Once at the airport, I got out of the cab and hesitated about where to go. I needed a phone as mine was nearly dead and I had no service, I was hungry, my clothes were a mess, and as of yet, 6 hours after the accident I hadn’t heard from my wife. I headed to the airport magazine store looking for a phone card. There were none. But the nice lady behind the counter, Michelle, let me use her phone.
Busy signal. I asked about something to eat, and all the real food was on the other side of security. So I bought a phone charger, thanked her and hunted for an outlet to plug in my phone. After plugging the phone in and sitting down, I realized I still didn’t have any service, so the charger did me no good. Then I headed downstairs to rent a car. I tried every vendor there, and each one was all sold out! Great, no luggage, no car, no phone. By now, I was just feeling kind of “wore out” from it all. I was walking around this airport with dirty, torn jeans. My white t-shirt looked like I’d been in it a week. My boots had mud all around the bottom, and I just felt a little “lost” I think. I needed a place to “crash” (once today was not enough??) so I called a motel with shuttle service from the motel directory near the luggage carousel. When the little gal asked me how I was doing today, I just kind of chuckled and said “Not too bad for a guy nearly killed 6 hours ago.” She was not only the driver, but also the clerk at the motel. She fixed me up with a razor and shaving cream, toothpaste and brush, a comb, deodorant, and several other things. She gave me a list and menu of several places that delivered free to the motel. She just went out of her way to try and get me settled in.
I made several calls from the room, asking my daughter Karla to contact several people for me. I eventually got to talk to Nat. She was pretty calm about the whole thing. I called Don Brunk, a CMA’er from Eugene. Within 30 minutes the local CMA president was calling me to ask what I needed. What a great network to have access to. I was settled in, had dinner on the way and really didn’t need anything the rest of the night. I took some Aleve the clerk gave me and hit the hay.
The whole day was kind of a big blur at this point. I couldn’t quite believe I had survived a “50 mph get off” and not only survived, but got up and walked away!
Praise the Lord for that. I have to admit, my thoughts had turned to disappointment that the trip was done. Now I’d have to figure out how I’ll get around, get the bike and trailer, get them home, and a multitude of other details.
