On Rule #64: The Sudden Drop

Scrapped carbon and a torn cleat serve as reminders of a sudden crash.
Scraped carbon and a torn cleat serve as reminders of a sudden crash.

The severity of a crash exists on two planes, the physical and psychological. The physical is the most obvious and one we busy ourselves with in the immediate vicinity of coming down. Our bodies need time to heal, our kits may need replacing or mending, and our bicycles may need repair work. For weeks and sometimes months, we may carry with us the scars that result when our bodies, bicycles, and tarmac momentarily occupy the same space.

We endeavor to reach a point where the mechanics of bike handling has moved into the subconscious. An experienced Cyclist no longer thinks in terms of steering or pedaling; instead, we exist in a stream of subconscious consciousness where our senses are heightened, yet none of our actions exist on a plane of explicit thought as we make subtle adjustments to our stroke, steering, and balance. As our experience grows, the bicycle becomes an extension of our physical selves; it is through finding this harmony that we are able to live on the razor’s edge between grace and disaster.

When disaster does strike, we are faced with scars beyond the physical that take much longer to recover than do our equipment and flesh. In the space of a single moment, the trust we felt in our machine and our ability to control it evaporates, leaving a hollow sense of betrayal that burrows away deeply into our minds. It stays there, far from view, only to surface during moments when we most rely on our confidence to avoid crashes; the sliding of a tire in a corner or the sudden interference of an object with our path – these situations require complete confidence in our machine and skills, yet during the time that our confidence is being rebuilt we doubt our instincts.

This is particularly true of cornering, where we are most prominently faced with the realities of our confidence, trust, and skills. Normally, we sense a crash approaching some time before it arrives. A problem with our trajectory or a slipping tire will give our minds a moment to react, even if our bodies are unable to. As we reflect on the crash afterwards, we’ll understand what happened, and what might have been done to avoid it; we use this knowledge to tell ourselves it was avoidable and tuck that nagging sense of doubt a bit farther out of reach. But a crash with no warning and no remedy sits naked in our minds and permeates every action and sensation as we struggle to regain our confidence.

This past December, I slipped on some black ice on a cold morning commute to the office. There were no signs of anything going amiss; there was only the crash. In the blink of an eye, I went from happily entering a corner to laying on the tarmac. The impact was so sudden, in fact, that the force of the fall was taken up by my hip and elbow – my hands never left the bars – and the impact so swift that my cleat tore apart as the impossibility of my occupying the same space as my bicycle and the road was resolved by my being separated abruptly from both.

My rides since then have suffered from nagging questions that flood my mind as I enter a corner, particularly in the wet; I no longer trust that I can judge the corner adequately or that my equipment will loyally carry me through. Logically, I know that while statistics suggest that one’s chances of crashing remain constant so long as environmental conditions don’t significantly change, I know shaken confidence ensures that crashes come in clusters as self-doubt overrides intuition cultivated over years of experience.

I must force myself to regain my confidence; the only path to doing so lies through ignoring my doubt and wrapping myself in the craft. Vive la Vie Velominatus.

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117 Replies to “On Rule #64: The Sudden Drop”

  1. I got a smashed helmet in the same circumstances last month although I did have time to think “fuck ice”.

    Proper comedy crash as the rubber side of my bike went higher that the bits you sit on…

  2. Laid Back wrote a song I tried to embed called White Horse but they say don’t ride the white horse.  What I hoped to convey was not that.  One must get back on the horse as soon as possible after a spill and restore the confidence lost.  Takes a wee while sometimes, but as you said @frank, one has to push it a little and everything will be back to normal eventually.  Thanks.

  3. ‘Scrapped carbon and a torn cleat serve as reminders of a sudden crash’

    Should read as:

    ‘Scraped carbon and a torn cleat serve as reminders of a sudden crash’

  4. almost half a year later, i still get nervous riding on the street with cars.  a deep uncontrollable anxiety fills me soon as i step outside thinking im going to get hit again, and this time wont be so lucky.  The situations where you clean the deck out of no real fault of your own are the hardest to overcome…At least for me.  30 mins into riding i can generally calm down enough to enjoy the ride, but you would think i belong on suicide watch if you caught the glint of my eyes.

    the slippery as snot looking surface of Hawaii help at all to restore/rebuild your confidence frank?

  5. @TBONE

    ‘Scrapped carbon and a torn cleat serve as reminders of a sudden crash’

    Should read as:

    ‘Scraped carbon and a torn cleat serve as reminders of a sudden crash’

    I think in this case it may very well be ‘scrapped carbon’  That looks like a pretty large chunk taken out of the outsole.

  6. @VeloVita

    @TBONE

    ‘Scrapped carbon and a torn cleat serve as reminders of a sudden crash’

    Should read as:

    ‘Scraped carbon and a torn cleat serve as reminders of a sudden crash’

    I think in this case it may very well be ‘scrapped carbon’ That looks like a pretty large chunk taken out of the outsole.

    If that’s the case it should be ‘gouged’ as the carbon hasn’t been scrapped or sent to the scrap heap.

  7. The photo hurts. Frank, your optimism is always inspiring.

    I was cycling to a music show a few years back when I had my own black ice encounter. I was riding along, not corner, but suddenly realized I was on a huge patch of black ice I had not seen. I knew I was fucked and simply tried to take off as much speed as possible before my rear wheel eventually slid out. As opposed to not having time, I had enough time to get my hip and shoulder out, kind of laying it down as gently as possible and protecting the steed. All in all, not so bad but the feeling of being on black ice & traveling far too fast ain’t fun.

    I’ve been hit twice by cars & both of those resulted in analyzing what I had done wrong & some shaken confidence. I’ve adopted my own mantra that I utter when riding in heavy traffic, along the lines of some advice given to Rick Kane in the esteemed “North Shore”: when the bus (wave) turns (breaks) here, don’t be there. Or, you’re gonna get drilled.

  8. @roger interesting. I am the opposite. Where I have caused myself to crash, I have found my confidence well damaged – but when I have been brought down through the actions of others (ie. other riders) I have emerged relatively mentally unscathed.

    That being said I have never been dusted by a car (knock on wood) so that might be a different kettle…

  9. My most recent off was an unintentional dismount of the rollers whilst I was on the extensions of a TT bike. I have since discontinued this training method …

  10. Man, I haven’t thought about this subject for a long time. I love the articles on this site.  A few years back I was hit from behind without warning by a pick up truck and sent spinning in the dark. The headlights were simply the next vehicle that was approaching from the rear. At least he stopped and the groans helped pinpoint me in the blackness. Anyway it took me many many months to get confident riding in traffic again and my owl like ability to see front and back almost at the same time was apparently impressive. Eventually I got there and will be fine I suppose until the inevitable bike car contact happens again. A helmet camera on the commute worked like a comfort blanket, for me and the VMH. Now I seem to have a well developed spidey sense for potential conflict. It’s funny but black ice and cornering grit spills haven’t had anything like the same effect. Maybe it’s because I attribute those to my own lack of attention or general ineptitude and must do better next time. Bike damage pisses me off way more than scraped skin, so does ruining decent kit but that’ll just be the tight Jock genes coming to the fore.

  11. I’ve had a couple whilst commuting this winter-one black ice, one snow and “oh, it’s not so bad after*thonk*” overconfidence. One either side of a nasty blind corner/tunnel complex on a narrowish track where people have difficulty with the concept of “keep left”*, so at least I was going slow. But both times landed before hands could leave handlebars.

    The snow one was galling. It’s a bit where there’s an underpass under a road, but it’s off the line of the cycleway. Sort of like a “bus stop” type racetrack chicane. I’d got round the first sharp right/left, through the short tunnel, out into the gentler left and was on the even gentler right, running a little wide onto virgin snow. Decided I was OK to accelerate. I wasn’t.

    I should perhaps point out that I was being truly foolish, and should have headed for the (cleared) roads instead of the uncleared cycle routes, what with still being on 25mm Gatorskins. The words “asking for trouble” come to mind.

  12. @roger

    almost half a year later, i still get nervous riding on the street with cars. a deep uncontrollable anxiety fills me soon as i step outside thinking im going to get hit again, and this time wont be so lucky. The situations where you clean the deck out of no real fault of your own are the hardest to overcome…At least for me. 30 mins into riding i can generally calm down enough to enjoy the ride, but you would think i belong on suicide watch if you caught the glint of my eyes.

    the slippery as snot looking surface of Hawaii help at all to restore/rebuild your confidence frank?

    Yeah, I hear you.

    I have been hit 4 times by cars/trucks in the past:  Once while riding along Rt 10 in NH as an 18 wheeler passed me he slowly kept moving over towards me until he finally hit my shoulder and sent me into the ditch-that one was in 1989.  Another time a cement truck in Germany clipped me from behind and sent me flying up onto the sidewalk.  Multiple cars stopped and came running b/c they thought I was a deadman-that one was in 1995.  that same year a bus side  swipped me in Munich. Last time was less than a year ago in TX when a huge SUV driven by a clueless person ran over my rear wheel while taking a left turn at a stop light and I was going straight through.  Just missed running me over completely. 

    I really do not think that I am that bad or aggressive of a rider.  But I guess it is the law of averages that if you ride 300 hours a year for 10 to 20 years on busy roads, you will most likely be hit.

  13. @roger

    almost half a year later, i still get nervous riding on the street with cars. a deep uncontrollable anxiety fills me soon as i step outside thinking im going to get hit again, and this time wont be so lucky. The situations where you clean the deck out of no real fault of your own are the hardest to overcome…At least for me. 30 mins into riding i can generally calm down enough to enjoy the ride, but you would think i belong on suicide watch if you caught the glint of my eyes.

    the slippery as snot looking surface of Hawaii help at all to restore/rebuild your confidence frank?

    I think I would feel the way you feel now just trying to venture out in Boston area traffic, much less with your experience.

  14. The central thesis of the article is gospel truth. Never had serious injuries on the bike, but I took a bad fall while climbing in ’07. No lasting physical damage to speak of, but it really trashed my confidence for a couple of years. In a word, I was afraid. I still dislike exposure of any kind more than I used to.

    Gradual (re-)desensitization is all there is for it, I guess.

  15. I’ve been lucky too.  Hit twice but no damage to the bike and just knocked me over. I got more bruises from falling off my rollers a few weeks ago!  It did take me a few weeks to get back on the bike after being hit, though.

  16. its a huge testament to the mindset of a pro who crashes in a sprint and gets trampled by half the peloton, and is back out there the next day, full gas as if it never really happened.  Its amazing the amount of information they can block out

  17. @Buck Rogers

     

    Yeah, I hear you.

    I have been hit 4 times by cars/trucks in the past: 18 wheeler  a cement truck  a bus  a huge SUV

    So really its just been trucks – that’s extra rough!

  18. Great article.  Build confidence over the summer, the nagging doubts will pass…

  19. @PeakInTwoYears

    The central thesis of the article is gospel truth. Never had serious injuries on the bike, but I took a bad fall while climbing in ’07. No lasting physical damage to speak of, but it really trashed my confidence for a couple of years. In a word, I was afraid. I still dislike exposure of any kind more than I used to.

    Gradual (re-)desensitization is all there is for it, I guess.

    Exactly!  I was roped up to my partner when he was crossing a snow gully one time and the entire gully broke loose and avalanched.  Fortunately the slide stopped before I was sucked into it and I traced the rope to him and dug him out.  He survived unhurt but that was the last time that we climbed for close to a year.  Scared the shitte out of both of us and gave me nightmares for weeks.  Still get scared in big, deep snow conditions.

  20. @VeloVita

    @Buck Rogers

    Yeah, I hear you.

    I have been hit 4 times by cars/trucks in the past: 18 wheeler a cement truck a bus a huge SUV

    So really its just been trucks – that’s extra rough!

    Ha!  Yeah, I’m a truck/bus/SUV magnet!

  21. “Assume that everyone else is out to kill you” – with respect to drivers, this is my on road mantra and was passed on by a motorcycling friend. Having met a truck driver a year or so ago who regaled us with the wonderful story of how he liked to drift the trailer out towards cyclists to “scare the shit out of them”, I’m convinced that some drivers really are out there to get me.

    Fortunately my falls have all been self inflicted and mostly related to white stripes and water/grease – I CAN rationalise them, but they do really shake my confidence. And skin regrows (mostly) but good kit and clearcoat – that’s damn hard to fix…..that really hurts

    Great article.

  22. @Buck Rogers

    @PeakInTwoYears

    The central thesis of the article is gospel truth. Never had serious injuries on the bike, but I took a bad fall while climbing in ’07. No lasting physical damage to speak of, but it really trashed my confidence for a couple of years. In a word, I was afraid. I still dislike exposure of any kind more than I used to.

    Gradual (re-)desensitization is all there is for it, I guess.

    Exactly! I was roped up to my partner when he was crossing a snow gully one time and the entire gully broke loose and avalanched. Fortunately the slide stopped before I was sucked into it and I traced the rope to him and dug him out. He survived unhurt but that was the last time that we climbed for close to a year. Scared the shitte out of both of us and gave me nightmares for weeks. Still get scared in big, deep snow conditions.

    I used to love climbing. First accident occurred when i let go of a mate’s girlfriend whilst we were crossing a ravine. Then then this arsehole comes and crashes a fucking plane on my mountain. I go to rescue him and it turns out he is a fucking robber. After that i went back to boxing.

  23. Timely. LeMan is reported in the hospital for 3 days and a brace for 3 weeks. A car crash on black ice (he apparently was in a car) resulted in a compression fracture.

    My Rule (that I have been ridiculed by the common sojery here) is that I don’t ride in the rain, and I don’t ride in the dark. It’s. Too. Fucking. Dangerous. 

    Although this is at least part of the reason my ass is as big as it is right now.

  24. in October after a good hard ride, on a beautiful early fall day, I crashed after hitting a water bottle some %^&*! left on a crowded bike path. After a long sweeping spin through the air, I landed on my right side on the edge of a concrete enclosed raised planter. A broken clavicle, many ribs and a pelvis later, I was off the bike for 8 weeks.

    Sunday, after 4 weeks back in the saddle, I was riding in a group. Everyone was a  guy I know, all experienced riders. So when someone next to me half wheeled the guy in front of him, i just pulled off to the right and let the group go by. It will take a while until I have enough trust to ride in a fast group again and i am not happy about it. It takes time I guess…

  25. @Sly

    I used to love climbing. […]

    After that i went back to boxing.

    Nice!

    For a few years I was into riding a sport bike. (Divorce will motivate you to ride a motorcycle rather too fast.) I studied the techniques and rode and dreamed of track days and went looking for a sensei and discovered that those people take risks that will make the average rock climber (me) shake his head in disbelief. Russian roulette on wheels.

    I’ve left my bike inoperative for a while now, but I took the VMH’s adorable little Baby Ninja (custom suspension, good rubber) for a spin late last summer, just to have some fun running an errand through the woods and into town… It confirmed my feeling that I should not allow myself on a motorcycle, ever. Twisty roads = throttle turns itself and I just lean the bike a bit more and enjoy the ride. Stoopid fun and of course potentially quite lethal. I really should just sell my bike and make some more space for stuff that is practical and sane.

  26. Nice reality check  for me! There are many times when i let confidence breed carelessness.You just never know when Ma- Nature is going to come a knocking and reasure you that gravity still exists and she is in charge.  I hate those test but if i had to choose i prefer the inanimate over the animate.  Over the years i’ve been able to walk / ride away a stronger person.  What is more humbling is the walk / call of shame home or back to camp because my steed  is broken . There is something about being able to ride immediately  after crashing that is very gratifying for me. I call it a badge of honor because i was aloud to get up and ride another day.

  27. @Ron

    The photo hurts. Frank, your optimism is always inspiring.

    I was cycling to a music show a few years back when I had my own black ice encounter. I was riding along, not corner, but suddenly realized I was on a huge patch of black ice I had not seen. I knew I was fucked and simply tried to take off as much speed as possible before my rear wheel eventually slid out. As opposed to not having time, I had enough time to get my hip and shoulder out, kind of laying it down as gently as possible and protecting the steed. All in all, not so bad but the feeling of being on black ice & traveling far too fast ain’t fun.

    I’ve been hit twice by cars & both of those resulted in analyzing what I had done wrong & some shaken confidence. I’ve adopted my own mantra that I utter when riding in heavy traffic, along the lines of some advice given to Rick Kane in the esteemed “North Shore”: when the bus (wave) turns (breaks) here, don’t be there. Or, you’re gonna get drilled.

    Last summer whilst laying down some serious V, my wheel-sucking mate yelled, “He’s turning!”  As the road ahead in both directions was clear I was puzzled…until an overtaking van appeared and proceeded to cut into a parking lot in front of me!  In the “safety” of the bike lane I applied front and rear brakes to only to discover that at high speed, stopping is not happening soon enough.  Fortunately I struck the van’s side at an oblique angle and proceeded to tear a gouge (or is it a scrape or a scrap?) the length of the vehicle with my bars.  I would have been completely unscathed had I not picked off the van’s mirror with my shoulder. After a very shaky ride home and a trip to the LBS, my bike was unharmed save for shredded bar tape and two broken seat rails (must have clamped down before impact!)

    The moral: Don’t be where the van is…and you aren’t safe in the bike lane!

  28. @The Pressure

    …and you aren’t safe in the bike lane!

    A-Merckx.  I am still puzzled when cycling advocacy groups talk about all the new ‘infrastructure” they have created.  In reality all they did was paint a few yellow lines, and now it’s considered infrastructure?  There’s a GREAT youtube video of a guy who obnoxiously films himself and the bike lane encounters.  Sometimes you really can feel like the whole world is against you…sad but true.  Regardless, I wouldnt trade my 2 wheels for antyhing

  29. I recently met a guy on Facebook whose 14-year-old son was hit and killed while he was out training with his team a year or so ago.  The guy who hit him didn’t even go to jail!

  30. No serious crashes yet, at least none involving motorised transport.  But have experienced sheer terror. Saturday morning on Beach Rd in Melbourne – (http://www.cyclingtips.com.au/2011/09/beach-road-bedlam/) – in a big group, taking themselves very seriously, I really dont belong – my No.1 did not cost over $10k and I wont hold on for much longer.  Red light ahead. The call from the front.  STOPPING.  Distracted for some reason – just plain forget to unclip.  Slowing. Stopping.  Off camber!! .  Ah shit, overbalancing.  How can this be happening, everything goes into slow motion.  Topple into the gutter.  Divot in knee.   Silence, rolling eyes.  Then a snort – “Dont worry mate – we’ve all done it. Well, not really.”

  31. @Marcus

    @roger interesting. I am the opposite. Where I have caused myself to crash, I have found my confidence well damaged – but when I have been brought down through the actions of others (ie. other riders) I have emerged relatively mentally unscathed.

    Yup ditto here, still not 100% confident in my cornering on descents that I don’t ride consistently after my spill at Easter last year. Fault purely my own for going too quick for the damp & messy road conditions, which is the worst part because you’re constantly questioning whether you’ve judged the corner/conditions correctly once you’re back up riding…

  32. Oh boy, lots of reading to catch up. On my way out the door but wanted to point out that the bike was fine mechanically but the carbon ergo levers took a beating. [Insert photo of Sonny Corleone biting knuckle when he hears his sister say her husband beat her again, a fantastic scene which eludes me on the interwebs.]

    Regarding the Bonts – these shoes are completely bombproof. This accident happened back in mid-December, and I’ve since ridden Haleakala etc on them. A little sandpaper to the rough carbon and some glue to the bit of upper that had peeled away from the carbon – and a new cleat – and I was off to the races.

    It will take more than this to sort those shoes. I am reasonably confident that I could get shot in my foot and the shoe would be fine.

  33. @roger

    almost half a year later, i still get nervous riding on the street with cars. a deep uncontrollable anxiety fills me soon as i step outside thinking im going to get hit again, and this time wont be so lucky. The situations where you clean the deck out of no real fault of your own are the hardest to overcome…At least for me. 30 mins into riding i can generally calm down enough to enjoy the ride, but you would think i belong on suicide watch if you caught the glint of my eyes.

    the slippery as snot looking surface of Hawaii help at all to restore/rebuild your confidence frank?

    Roger this is why you should join us out in the burbs

  34. @Marcus

    My most recent off was an unintentional dismount of the rollers whilst I was on the extensions of a TT bike. I have since discontinued this training method …

    Dude! I feel guilty cos I rode my 404’s on the rollers (2.5km further over 1 hour), but ya TT rig? Seriously?

  35. It’s going to happen… I remember seeing Stuart O’Grady interviewed after a spectacular track crash (not involving him, though lord knows he’s had more than his share) and he said words to the effect of “If you ride a bike it’s a matter of when, not if you’re going to crash.”

    In some ways I find that comforting. If you ride with the possibility in mind then a) You don’t take unnecessary risks and b) You aren’t surprised when it happens, so it doesn’t affect you too much.

    Not that I’ve had a bad crash, touch wood.

  36. I’ve been hit by 3 cars. Once ended up on a back board with my achilles cut and tibia showing. Lost teeth and skin to the pave, racing. I’m absolutely positive that it’s all about getting it immediately out of your head, and remembering that your connection to the bike is perfect. We just can’t always control the environment around us.

  37. Frank-

    Thank you. You’ve put into words what I have yet to.

    On January 8th of this year I crashed while on one of my favorite rides on the planet. A classic Northern California loop out of Woodside, I wound up to and over Skyline through redwoods to the PCH and then back again. All told it would have been a 140 kilometer day. I kept a pace that was hard tempo going up and deliberately casual on the descents due to the often slick and sometimes frosty patches. I was on the final descent when I entered a sweeping left hand corner and the front wheel went out from under me. I had no time to respond. None. I went down as hard as an east coaster slipping on an iced over sidewalk in the dead of February.

    My left femur took the entire load of the fall.

    It broke high and in a spiral manner and I am now the owner of an embedded 11mm x 300mm titanium rod and four screws. My request for strain gauges and Blue Tooth connectivity was only met with blank stares.

    It’s been just over 3 weeks since the wreck and it’s as vivid in my memory as the day it happened. Laying on the wet road, the 911 call, the packaging performed by Fire Department and EMS personnel, the ER staff and then the surgeons. All their faces are embedded. The pain is subsiding and I am regaining mobility. I am fortunate to be surrounded by family and friends and am able to use sick leave for work.

    The team’s new kit arrived just last week and I’ve just now opened the box…

    Is my season over before it’s begun? Three fresh kits and all the warm weather gear a guy needs for Nor*Cal is sitting in cardboard in the corner of my room. Will it ever be worn?

    The crash rattled me. I couldn’t think about, talk about or even look at a bike for a week without getting nauseated. Slowly, the nausea is fading and I have been able to look a my sled. There is hardly a scratch on her. A touch on the left side of the saddle and a whisk on the left shift/brake lever. No real sign of anything other than what might happen if she had gotten bumped to the ground outside a coffee shop. It’s almost unfair. She survived and I remain seriously scarred. The feeling and sound of bone snapping is haunting.

    I suppose the days will turn to weeks (as they already have) and the weeks into months. I only hope that the desire to ride will come back and along with it the confidence to ride has hard as I have in the past.

    For now, I am left in a place where I’m not so sure anymore…

    Except maybe… when I re-read Rule #5 and the pilot light deep down low flickers just a bit.

    Again, thanks for the post. It was one I needed.

  38. @frank

    Oh boy, lots of reading to catch up. On my way out the door but wanted to point out that the bike was fine mechanically but the carbon ergo levers took a beating. [Insert photo of Sonny Corleone biting knuckle when he hears his sister say her husband beat her again, a fantastic scene which eludes me on the interwebs.]

    Regarding the Bonts – these shoes are completely bombproof. This accident happened back in mid-December, and I’ve since ridden Haleakala etc on them. A little sandpaper to the rough carbon and some glue to the bit of upper that had peeled away from the carbon – and a new cleat – and I was off to the races.

    It will take more than this to sort those shoes. I am reasonably confident that I could get shot in my foot and the shoe would be fine.

    The only thing left after the apocalypse to remind future species of our existence will be randomly scattered pairs of slightly charred Bonts

  39. @wrench

    Stay strong man.

    I have thought about this topic often since my near fatal motorcycle accident 5 years ago (see above comments regarding russian roulette and the law of averages riding 60k miles a year on two wheels).  28 days in the hurt locker, 7 surgeries, and the worst of the injuries being a compound spiral fractured femur and the resulting missing vastus medialis.

    My half ironman training and great physical shape was what saved me, but at 128 lbs from 165, and on the 7th surgery I gave up and just made it through from the grace of the man above.

    Since then life has been a struggle between motivations.  On the one hand my burning desire to regain that life that I had, including the athletic abilities that I’ve now lost.  On the other hand the desire to never enter that hurt locker again.  Sometimes the two motivations allow me to work in unison, other times, they seem completely contradictory and I can not claim to have the answers.

    I do know the following:

    Rule #5 ……. so true on so many levels

    Try never to find the point where Rule #5 is no longer applicable as it is an ugly ugly place

    I don’t think I’ll ever be seperated from some of the things I’m truly passionate about. Many of them already mentioned here on the site: motorcycles, rock climbing, athletism.  But life ain’t just one lap around the velodrome trying to go out in a  blast of glory.  It’s Liege-Bastogne-Liege and there ain’t any point in burning all your matches on the first climb, nor running off the road on the first decent.  Keep your passions, but also keep the long view.

    Finally as much as I’d prefer not to have learned my lessons in such a painful and graphic way, I can’t regret having learned them.  Just hope that my future kids can benefit from my experience.

    VLVV

  40. @wrench

    Frank-

    Thank you. You’ve put into words what I have yet to.

    On January 8th of this year I crashed while on one of my favorite rides on the planet. A classic Northern California loop out of Woodside, I wound up to and over Skyline through redwoods to the PCH and then back again. All told it would have been a 140 kilometer day. I kept a pace that was hard tempo going up and deliberately casual on the descents due to the often slick and sometimes frosty patches. I was on the final descent when I entered a sweeping left hand corner and the front wheel went out from under me. I had no time to respond. None. I went down as hard as an east coaster slipping on an iced over sidewalk in the dead of February.

    My left femur took the entire load of the fall.

    It broke high and in a spiral manner and I am now the owner of an embedded 11mm x 300mm titanium rod and four screws. My request for strain gauges and Blue Tooth connectivity was only met with blank stares.

    It’s been just over 3 weeks since the wreck and it’s as vivid in my memory as the day it happened. Laying on the wet road, the 911 call, the packaging performed by Fire Department and EMS personnel, the ER staff and then the surgeons. All their faces are embedded. The pain is subsiding and I am regaining mobility. I am fortunate to be surrounded by family and friends and am able to use sick leave for work.

    The team’s new kit arrived just last week and I’ve just now opened the box…

    Is my season over before it’s begun? Three fresh kits and all the warm weather gear a guy needs for Nor*Cal is sitting in cardboard in the corner of my room. Will it ever be worn?

    The crash rattled me. I couldn’t think about, talk about or even look at a bike for a week without getting nauseated. Slowly, the nausea is fading and I have been able to look a my sled. There is hardly a scratch on her. A touch on the left side of the saddle and a whisk on the left shift/brake lever. No real sign of anything other than what might happen if she had gotten bumped to the ground outside a coffee shop. It’s almost unfair. She survived and I remain seriously scarred. The feeling and sound of bone snapping is haunting.

    I suppose the days will turn to weeks (as they already have) and the weeks into months. I only hope that the desire to ride will come back and along with it the confidence to ride has hard as I have in the past.

    For now, I am left in a place where I’m not so sure anymore…

    Except maybe… when I re-read Rule #5 and the pilot light deep down low flickers just a bit.

    Again, thanks for the post. It was one I needed.

    Moving stuff and reminds us all that we are really just puny ants on a pin prick in the Galaxy…..however…..Rule #5 is there for a reason.  It is not some macho bullshit mantra to be twatwaffled and quoted in the locker room.  It is a reminder that no matter how dark it gets, not matter how low, cold, tired, painful, mentally scarred we are…..that pilot light is always there.

    That light cannot be exstinguished, it can flicker and reduce but it is always there.  Whatever the situation, to ride less, or be more carefully, to only ride in summer, or only with a group, it really does not matter because the love of the bike and the ride cannot be defeated by pain, misery, accident or calamity.  As they say true love conquers all!

    I am glad you have great support around you, take your time, but keep a little momentum….just one day at a time is all it takes…observe the antics on here and slowly the flame will grow!

    Chapeau…..and…..in the true sense of the word….Rule #5!

  41. I recently had my CC “reset” by ice and reckon I’m now at least 6+ months to peak :(
    In my case it all boils down to faith – that and ignoring the fact it may happen again as ultimately it wasn’t my fault (beyond riding in insane conditions) – it was the bounce down the flight of steps and the final braking assistance provided by a garden bench which did the real damage.

    On the bright side I never knew my vmh was such a comedienne, the way she casually rested her elbows on the bars of her bike and noted (utterly deadpan) “that bench is a goner” had me laughing until I cried

  42. Er…@Frank what’s with the Time cleats…where have the Speedplays gone?

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