![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Quite a weekend
Oct. 21st, 2003 02:30 amAs the Chinese blessing/curse goes, May you live in interesting times.
Sunday morning, I rose bright and early in order to be at Coleman Power Sports (in Woodbridge, VA) before 9:30 for the 14th Annual Fall Foliage Ride. In attendance were at least two or three dozen bikes, of all makes and models, sport and cruiser alike. Inside was a registration table, where we simultaneously a) registered, b) signed a waiver/disclaimer, and c) entered a door-prize drawing, to be held at ride's end. In the Customer Lounge, which I'd never noticed in my previous visits, they had boxes of tasty donuts and a coffee machine, the likes of which I'd never seen before. It had a rack of small packets labeled with various teas, coffees, and chocolates, each with a small plastic nozzle at the top. The adjacent machine had a display screen where you could select what you intended to make, at which point a panel on the front would open with a slot to insert the packet and latch it into place; upon closing the cover, it would request a cup and then brew the cup. Funky!
Around 9:30 we rallied around the organizer, got the game plan, and then we saddled up and left in two groups--sport bikes or faster riders first, cruisers or slower riders second. (As my bike couldn't keep up with the former, I joined the latter. ) We then headed south on 95, NW on 234, and then hit Bristow Rd (part of the VA Byway, which I don't think I'd ever used before.) From there, we took 28S, Vint Hill Rd (215), 600, 29S into Warrenton, 17N, and finally a boring road, 66W. (All roads from 234 through 17 were rather small/hilly. ) 66 took us to Front Royal, where we stopped at a gas station/store/McD's (around 1130) and met up with the group who'd come in from the Coleman in Arlington, via the boring all-66W route.
After gas/lunch/chatting/bike-admiration, and me getting a card from the organizer of a local riding group, we left in similar faster/slower groups and headed onto 340S, 55W, 678, and 675. By this point we were in the exquisitely enjoyable portion of the ride, through Shenandoah National Park and the George Washington Forest, winding, hilly, and utterly gorgeous. After quite some time of this, we hit 340 again and then 211E into Luray, where we stopped for gas again.
At this point, I checked my watch and noticed that it was 1255, when--as you may recall--I was supposed to meet my parents in Manassas around 1 to head out to Shauna's choir show at the Kennedy Center, and I was well over an hour away. I called my dad and explained the situation, and with much disappointment, we concluded that I probably had no reasonable chance of making it to the KenCen by 3, when the show started. I then took off with the riders, intending to finish the run to Graves Lodge, somewhere past the famous, soon-to-be-closed Cooter's in Sperryville (right near the Emporium where the Old Rag hikers met, in fact.) However, I realized that the route we were on--211E--was actually heading back toward NoVA, and a distance-to-DC sign indicated to me that I had a good chance of making it back in time. So, shortly after we'd left 211, I pulled a U-turn in a little gas station, waited for the riders to pass, and headed back to 211. Traffic was fine all the way out 211E, variably slow on 29N, and just before I got to 66E--around 220--I stopped to call my parents. (Incidentally, my odometer read 30,000.3 at that point. D) It was then that I checked my voicemail, which consisted of a 140 message from my mom saying, "We gave your ticket to Nancy [my dad's cousin], don't make any heroic efforts," so I called to explain that I was already in the midst of one. ;) So, while I waited, they checked on the availability of an additional ticket, verified that I could get one as long as I didn't mind sitting elsewhere in the concert hall--I didn't--and I continued on my merry way, into the slow traffic on 66E.
Once on 66E, I slogged through the traffic from 29 (ex43) to 234 (ex47), where it widens out from two lanes to four. Just about 8 miles later--right before the Stringfellow HOV ramp and within sight of the 7100 exit--is where it got altogether too interesting.
Riding through traffic in my normal fashion--within 10-15mph of the speed limit, not lane-splitting, not cutting too close to cars, I believe I changed lanes from Lane 3 to Lane 2 (right by HOV).. and I got a bit of a wobble in the steering. Now, this is not an isolated occurrence--usually there's a bit of a wobble in the steering, perhaps as the result of a too-sharp steering movement, followed by a disconcerting wobble of the bike, before it settles out and I continue.
This time, though.. this time was different. I got a shimmy, followed by a wobble, followed by a larger wobble from which I couldn't recover. As you may imagine, wobbly bikes are not stable, and unstable bikes don't stay upright. And so it was that I found myself tumbling down the highway at about 70mph, with my bike sliding in the lead. Rolling much like a log as I was for several seconds, I did have the presence of mind to pull my arms to my chest lest they get beaten about unnecessarily. I came to rest, picked myself up, noted the three lanes of traffic stopped behind me--you know they're horrified--and walked over to my bike. I started to pick it up--which is generally a one-person task, if you can get the right grip/stance--before several guys came up and helped me pick up the bike and roll it onto the shoulder.
At this point, I fielded various questions about my physical state from these helpful passers-by, decided that I was generally all right--bruised, scraped, but not broken, as far as I could tell. (The good Samaritans also gathered several broken pieces of my bike from the street, mostly windshield and mirror.) At this point, I pulled out my cell phone, the helpers drove off, and I called my parents. It was almost 3--five or ten 'til--and they were just about to go into the concert; they were upset, of course, but I said I was fine and they attended the performance. (After all, how often does one of your children get to perform at the Kennedy Center?)
A few minutes later, a Centreville fire truck pulled up, blocking the HOV lane and shoulder and setting up a perimeter of cones further downstream. With them came an ambulance--I figure someone called 911--who checked me out, cleaned and bandaged my more obvious abrasions, accepted my refusal of transport to the hospital, and called a State Trooper as per their requirements.
( Injuries immediately apparent, damage to protective gear )
Now, note well: For all that damage, none of the gear was torn all the way through, following a tumbling slide from 70mph, and all abrasions to my skin were from the inside of my clothing and gear, not the pavement. Impressive, eh? (And on the bright side, in emptying the pockets of my JR pants, I found my Cornell ring, missing for well over a year. :D)
When the trooper arrived, the EMTs departed, the cop laid out a couple flares, and we discussed his option of filing a report. Since my bike is insured only for liability--comprehensive and collision would cost more annually than the bike is worth--reporting it to insurance would result in no money for me, and probably an increased premium, so he made no report, but called a tow truck for me. He then left to take care of another accident futher upstream, saying he'd swing by after to make sure I'd been picked up. I then waited for the tow truck.. and waited some more.. and eventually, after the traffic I'd created had finally cleared out, the truck showed up--a flatbed with a "HogHauler" rig on the back, from Willow Springs towing (the same company called by the cops for my dad, some time back.)
He cited me a cost of $97 for the truck, $50 for the motorcycle rig, and $3/mile, but he said he'd see what he could do about that. With my help, we loaded the bike up, U-turned the truck through the Stringfellow entrance/exit, and headed back to my parents' house. Once there, he wrote up the charge slip, making me a nice deal: He charged me the $74 "disabled vehicle" rate and only billed me for 8 miles instead of the 13 it actually was; total cost, $148. We unloaded the bike, pushed it into my garage, and he went on his way.
( Damage to bike )
I then called my parents, who had just gotten out of the concert. Mom said I should've probably accepted the ambulance to the hospital, and that I should go, either with Steph or Matt or after waiting for them to arrive. Steph was closest, and mom had already called her, so I left with her. To Prince William Hospital we went, where I signed in, using my blessed insurance card, and got a precautionary neck brace. (I was pretty certain my neck had sustained no trauma, but it made the orderly feel better for me to wear it until a doctor saw me.) Then I waited, then filled out some waivers. Then I waited, then went to triage. Then I waited, parents showed up, and waited more. Eventually I was taken back to a room, where I waited. Then the doctor came, cbecks out my abrasions, painful joints, and neck (no damage). Then I waited more, and was taken to radiology, where they X-rayed my right wrist, left foot/ankle, and right calf abrasion., After more waiting, results came back: No bone damage, just soft tissue. So they cleaned and bandaged my abrasions, gave me a velcro brace for my wrist, and sent me on my way. Total time elapsed? About 4.5 hours, from 5-9:30 or so. :P
( Bandages on the Scott )
After that we stopped by CVS's 24hr phramacy to pick up my Vicodin (painkiller), Keflex ((?) antibiotic), and additional bandages/etc, then we went to dinner at TGI Friday's. After that I opted to sleep there and call out of work with one of my few available discretionary days--I don't think official "sick leave" is available yet, not sure how that works.
Monday:
At 7:15, I called and got the "we're closed, try the duty number" recording. at 7:28, I called and got Operations, telling me that a) the switchboard would open in two minutes (!) and b) the extension for the lab, so I called that, talked to the lab manager, explained why I wouldn't be in, and went back to sleep. My day was relaxing, featuring a bit of eating, a lot of computing, and not much mobility. However, Vicodin works well against pain, of which there wasn't -too- much to start with.
However, come mid-afternoon, I noticed my left elbow had been getting progressively more swollen, which I initially attributed to healing, but eventually realized, hey, major swelling. In fact, it was (and is) swollen from upper tricep all the way around to 2/3 of the way to my wrist. After making some calls to various doctors and orthopedic folks, we planned another trip to the hospital, and mom got all of her clients to pick up by about 5. Off to the hospital again, where we were "fast tracked," which apparently means less paperwork but no less waiting. In fact, it ended up taking 5.5 more hours--until 10:45, I believe--to get a set of X-rays of my elbow, a brief chat with the doctor, a re-dressing of my wounds, and the addition of a sling to support my left arm. The X-ray revealed only soft-tissue damage, in the form of a rupture/inflammation of the bursa in that elbow, which will recede/heal in time.
During this ridiculous wait, dad showed up, Matt showed up after 8 to get Brendan, Steph came by after 10 bringing food from Wendy's, we met a lot of other people with a lot of cute kids, all waiting just as long as we were, observed a very self-important man who proclaimed PW Hospital as The Worst Ever and that he was going to Talk To His Friend On The Board, etc. Also, I watched Everybody Loves Raymond in a waiting area.
That done, we came home, I emailed myself what I'd written of this post already, I gathered my things, headed back home to Lorton, and took my medicine. Shortly, I'll sleep, go to work in the morning, and I'll have an interesting story to tell.
(Naturally, I heard plenty of commentary from my mom (and later my grandmother) about how much worse it could've been--if a driver hadn't been paying attention, if I'd been leading a Mack truck, if I'd hit something, if the bike had high-sided and thus been following me, etc.. they said "you must still be in shock" because I was optimistically not bothered by these "could haves," and am still not as I type this. Yes, those things could've happened, but they didn't, so why dwell on them? This hasn't scared me off of riding, though I'll need to a) heal, b) fix my bike or get a replacement, and c) get some new gear before I can go again. :P Wouldn't hurt to figure out how to correct an instability of that nature, either--or make sure any future bike has a steering damper. Naturally, most of the EMTs and hospital orderlies were averse to motorcycles, having seen far too many accidents and injuries--except the last nurse I saw, who rides, as does her husband. :)
Sunday morning, I rose bright and early in order to be at Coleman Power Sports (in Woodbridge, VA) before 9:30 for the 14th Annual Fall Foliage Ride. In attendance were at least two or three dozen bikes, of all makes and models, sport and cruiser alike. Inside was a registration table, where we simultaneously a) registered, b) signed a waiver/disclaimer, and c) entered a door-prize drawing, to be held at ride's end. In the Customer Lounge, which I'd never noticed in my previous visits, they had boxes of tasty donuts and a coffee machine, the likes of which I'd never seen before. It had a rack of small packets labeled with various teas, coffees, and chocolates, each with a small plastic nozzle at the top. The adjacent machine had a display screen where you could select what you intended to make, at which point a panel on the front would open with a slot to insert the packet and latch it into place; upon closing the cover, it would request a cup and then brew the cup. Funky!
Around 9:30 we rallied around the organizer, got the game plan, and then we saddled up and left in two groups--sport bikes or faster riders first, cruisers or slower riders second. (As my bike couldn't keep up with the former, I joined the latter. ) We then headed south on 95, NW on 234, and then hit Bristow Rd (part of the VA Byway, which I don't think I'd ever used before.) From there, we took 28S, Vint Hill Rd (215), 600, 29S into Warrenton, 17N, and finally a boring road, 66W. (All roads from 234 through 17 were rather small/hilly. ) 66 took us to Front Royal, where we stopped at a gas station/store/McD's (around 1130) and met up with the group who'd come in from the Coleman in Arlington, via the boring all-66W route.
After gas/lunch/chatting/bike-admiration, and me getting a card from the organizer of a local riding group, we left in similar faster/slower groups and headed onto 340S, 55W, 678, and 675. By this point we were in the exquisitely enjoyable portion of the ride, through Shenandoah National Park and the George Washington Forest, winding, hilly, and utterly gorgeous. After quite some time of this, we hit 340 again and then 211E into Luray, where we stopped for gas again.
At this point, I checked my watch and noticed that it was 1255, when--as you may recall--I was supposed to meet my parents in Manassas around 1 to head out to Shauna's choir show at the Kennedy Center, and I was well over an hour away. I called my dad and explained the situation, and with much disappointment, we concluded that I probably had no reasonable chance of making it to the KenCen by 3, when the show started. I then took off with the riders, intending to finish the run to Graves Lodge, somewhere past the famous, soon-to-be-closed Cooter's in Sperryville (right near the Emporium where the Old Rag hikers met, in fact.) However, I realized that the route we were on--211E--was actually heading back toward NoVA, and a distance-to-DC sign indicated to me that I had a good chance of making it back in time. So, shortly after we'd left 211, I pulled a U-turn in a little gas station, waited for the riders to pass, and headed back to 211. Traffic was fine all the way out 211E, variably slow on 29N, and just before I got to 66E--around 220--I stopped to call my parents. (Incidentally, my odometer read 30,000.3 at that point. D) It was then that I checked my voicemail, which consisted of a 140 message from my mom saying, "We gave your ticket to Nancy [my dad's cousin], don't make any heroic efforts," so I called to explain that I was already in the midst of one. ;) So, while I waited, they checked on the availability of an additional ticket, verified that I could get one as long as I didn't mind sitting elsewhere in the concert hall--I didn't--and I continued on my merry way, into the slow traffic on 66E.
Once on 66E, I slogged through the traffic from 29 (ex43) to 234 (ex47), where it widens out from two lanes to four. Just about 8 miles later--right before the Stringfellow HOV ramp and within sight of the 7100 exit--is where it got altogether too interesting.
Riding through traffic in my normal fashion--within 10-15mph of the speed limit, not lane-splitting, not cutting too close to cars, I believe I changed lanes from Lane 3 to Lane 2 (right by HOV).. and I got a bit of a wobble in the steering. Now, this is not an isolated occurrence--usually there's a bit of a wobble in the steering, perhaps as the result of a too-sharp steering movement, followed by a disconcerting wobble of the bike, before it settles out and I continue.
This time, though.. this time was different. I got a shimmy, followed by a wobble, followed by a larger wobble from which I couldn't recover. As you may imagine, wobbly bikes are not stable, and unstable bikes don't stay upright. And so it was that I found myself tumbling down the highway at about 70mph, with my bike sliding in the lead. Rolling much like a log as I was for several seconds, I did have the presence of mind to pull my arms to my chest lest they get beaten about unnecessarily. I came to rest, picked myself up, noted the three lanes of traffic stopped behind me--you know they're horrified--and walked over to my bike. I started to pick it up--which is generally a one-person task, if you can get the right grip/stance--before several guys came up and helped me pick up the bike and roll it onto the shoulder.
At this point, I fielded various questions about my physical state from these helpful passers-by, decided that I was generally all right--bruised, scraped, but not broken, as far as I could tell. (The good Samaritans also gathered several broken pieces of my bike from the street, mostly windshield and mirror.) At this point, I pulled out my cell phone, the helpers drove off, and I called my parents. It was almost 3--five or ten 'til--and they were just about to go into the concert; they were upset, of course, but I said I was fine and they attended the performance. (After all, how often does one of your children get to perform at the Kennedy Center?)
A few minutes later, a Centreville fire truck pulled up, blocking the HOV lane and shoulder and setting up a perimeter of cones further downstream. With them came an ambulance--I figure someone called 911--who checked me out, cleaned and bandaged my more obvious abrasions, accepted my refusal of transport to the hospital, and called a State Trooper as per their requirements.
( Injuries immediately apparent, damage to protective gear )
Now, note well: For all that damage, none of the gear was torn all the way through, following a tumbling slide from 70mph, and all abrasions to my skin were from the inside of my clothing and gear, not the pavement. Impressive, eh? (And on the bright side, in emptying the pockets of my JR pants, I found my Cornell ring, missing for well over a year. :D)
When the trooper arrived, the EMTs departed, the cop laid out a couple flares, and we discussed his option of filing a report. Since my bike is insured only for liability--comprehensive and collision would cost more annually than the bike is worth--reporting it to insurance would result in no money for me, and probably an increased premium, so he made no report, but called a tow truck for me. He then left to take care of another accident futher upstream, saying he'd swing by after to make sure I'd been picked up. I then waited for the tow truck.. and waited some more.. and eventually, after the traffic I'd created had finally cleared out, the truck showed up--a flatbed with a "HogHauler" rig on the back, from Willow Springs towing (the same company called by the cops for my dad, some time back.)
He cited me a cost of $97 for the truck, $50 for the motorcycle rig, and $3/mile, but he said he'd see what he could do about that. With my help, we loaded the bike up, U-turned the truck through the Stringfellow entrance/exit, and headed back to my parents' house. Once there, he wrote up the charge slip, making me a nice deal: He charged me the $74 "disabled vehicle" rate and only billed me for 8 miles instead of the 13 it actually was; total cost, $148. We unloaded the bike, pushed it into my garage, and he went on his way.
( Damage to bike )
I then called my parents, who had just gotten out of the concert. Mom said I should've probably accepted the ambulance to the hospital, and that I should go, either with Steph or Matt or after waiting for them to arrive. Steph was closest, and mom had already called her, so I left with her. To Prince William Hospital we went, where I signed in, using my blessed insurance card, and got a precautionary neck brace. (I was pretty certain my neck had sustained no trauma, but it made the orderly feel better for me to wear it until a doctor saw me.) Then I waited, then filled out some waivers. Then I waited, then went to triage. Then I waited, parents showed up, and waited more. Eventually I was taken back to a room, where I waited. Then the doctor came, cbecks out my abrasions, painful joints, and neck (no damage). Then I waited more, and was taken to radiology, where they X-rayed my right wrist, left foot/ankle, and right calf abrasion., After more waiting, results came back: No bone damage, just soft tissue. So they cleaned and bandaged my abrasions, gave me a velcro brace for my wrist, and sent me on my way. Total time elapsed? About 4.5 hours, from 5-9:30 or so. :P
( Bandages on the Scott )
After that we stopped by CVS's 24hr phramacy to pick up my Vicodin (painkiller), Keflex ((?) antibiotic), and additional bandages/etc, then we went to dinner at TGI Friday's. After that I opted to sleep there and call out of work with one of my few available discretionary days--I don't think official "sick leave" is available yet, not sure how that works.
Monday:
At 7:15, I called and got the "we're closed, try the duty number" recording. at 7:28, I called and got Operations, telling me that a) the switchboard would open in two minutes (!) and b) the extension for the lab, so I called that, talked to the lab manager, explained why I wouldn't be in, and went back to sleep. My day was relaxing, featuring a bit of eating, a lot of computing, and not much mobility. However, Vicodin works well against pain, of which there wasn't -too- much to start with.
However, come mid-afternoon, I noticed my left elbow had been getting progressively more swollen, which I initially attributed to healing, but eventually realized, hey, major swelling. In fact, it was (and is) swollen from upper tricep all the way around to 2/3 of the way to my wrist. After making some calls to various doctors and orthopedic folks, we planned another trip to the hospital, and mom got all of her clients to pick up by about 5. Off to the hospital again, where we were "fast tracked," which apparently means less paperwork but no less waiting. In fact, it ended up taking 5.5 more hours--until 10:45, I believe--to get a set of X-rays of my elbow, a brief chat with the doctor, a re-dressing of my wounds, and the addition of a sling to support my left arm. The X-ray revealed only soft-tissue damage, in the form of a rupture/inflammation of the bursa in that elbow, which will recede/heal in time.
During this ridiculous wait, dad showed up, Matt showed up after 8 to get Brendan, Steph came by after 10 bringing food from Wendy's, we met a lot of other people with a lot of cute kids, all waiting just as long as we were, observed a very self-important man who proclaimed PW Hospital as The Worst Ever and that he was going to Talk To His Friend On The Board, etc. Also, I watched Everybody Loves Raymond in a waiting area.
That done, we came home, I emailed myself what I'd written of this post already, I gathered my things, headed back home to Lorton, and took my medicine. Shortly, I'll sleep, go to work in the morning, and I'll have an interesting story to tell.
(Naturally, I heard plenty of commentary from my mom (and later my grandmother) about how much worse it could've been--if a driver hadn't been paying attention, if I'd been leading a Mack truck, if I'd hit something, if the bike had high-sided and thus been following me, etc.. they said "you must still be in shock" because I was optimistically not bothered by these "could haves," and am still not as I type this. Yes, those things could've happened, but they didn't, so why dwell on them? This hasn't scared me off of riding, though I'll need to a) heal, b) fix my bike or get a replacement, and c) get some new gear before I can go again. :P Wouldn't hurt to figure out how to correct an instability of that nature, either--or make sure any future bike has a steering damper. Naturally, most of the EMTs and hospital orderlies were averse to motorcycles, having seen far too many accidents and injuries--except the last nurse I saw, who rides, as does her husband. :)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}