3 Weeks On... the Wreck

A month ago today, I returned home from three and a half weeks in London, anxious to get back to normal life and all of its pleasures. Which meant, at long last, that my bike was coming out of the garage and getting some seriously overdue use. My riding season had been interrupted by school, work, severe allergy problems, and of course the trip. With only a month and a half left in the riding season, it was time to plot some routes and get on the road. There were a few days of peace, cruising around Fort Collins on my beloved BMW F650, and enjoying everything that two-wheeled fun can offer. But that wasn't enough- I was ready for a ride.

A week later. Thursday night was bike night, which meant either a trip to the coffee house to kick tires with other gear heads, or a nice long ride through the foothills. I chose the latter. My route was nothing new- I'd ridden the road dozens of times, on two different bikes, in all different kinds of weather. The only difference was that I was a bit off of my game from a month without riding, and I was a lot more anxious than usual for some thrills.

The ride started out great. I was in sync with my bike, hitting every corner just right. The roads were clear, the sun shining, the sky as blue as could be. I was on a long straightaway, with a hard right turn in the distance. It was deceptive- the turn tightened more and more the further you went into it. The road rose in elevation. And I was going too fast into it. I realized my mistake- this wasn't the wide sweeping bend I had thought it was. But I was going forty five, and there was no way to cut my speed in time to make the turn. I laid on my brakes as I shifted down. My rear wheel got loose and began skidding left. I leaned back and to the side, yanking the handle bars, trying to lay the bike down on my own terms before I left asphalt. Thankfully there was no oncoming traffic.

I flew off the road at about twenty five. My bike and I went through a metal pole and a sign, which shot me through the windshield and down the rocky hill that the road was on top of. I ricocheted off of a boulder and crash landed in a bush, my bike a few yards up the hill and still revving desperately. It took a few seconds for my brain to catch up with reality. Once I knew where I was, though, panic and pain rushed over me. I began to inventory my body, and see what was not working. I looked past the mountains into the sun and took a deep breath.