I've probably owned dogs 45 of my 52 years of life. I love them, always have and always will. Few animals can express such unconditional love and loyalty. But right now, all I can wish for is the early demise of one dachshund.
It was a pleasant ride, up to that most unpleasant moment. We had a tailwind and were cruising along a bit over 20 mph heading north back to Lighthouse. We'd come out the Super 2, but as usual Allen wanted to cross 37 to make a loop. He also likes to head up 337 to Pat's Plants, then turn north. I guess I'm saying it's all his fault.
Allen called out the dog, I saw it. The dog was on a small hill to my left, Allen on my right, and of course the stupid dog went straight for Allen. What is it about Allen's calves that make the dog go for the guy across the road? (Same thing happened on Sunday, only it was a pitbull, and I rode him down.) I saw it all the way. I asked myself, "Is it really going to run right in front of the bike?!" This all happened in a split second, there was no time to stop.
BOOM! I struck the dog broadside, right on the rib cage. This locked the front wheel, and over the top and to the left I went. Felled like a giant oak, the full force of the impact came simultaneously on the left handlebar and shifter and my hip, then the upper body slapped forward. I managed a tuck on the left shoulder, which was better than sticking out the arm (which would have snapped me at the shoulder or collar bone). My head bounced once off the pavement - thank goodness for my helmet! Once on the ground, I skidded to a halt.
At the moment of impact, my first thought was, "Man, I forgot how much this hurts." That actually kind of cracks me up. Heh. Like it was just another day at the office. My next thought was about getting up. I wasn't going to lay there like some wuss.
As odd as it sounds, I was trapped under my bike. Both feet were still clipped, and while it was easy to clear the right leg, the bike lay on my left, and I couldn't twist my leg - my left hip was already in distress. I denied the possibility of it being broken, and began to try to drag myself out from under the bike. My mind flashed back to Gary Flynn crawling back to Washington Ave after falling, and I wasn't having it. With a final twist, I was free, and I stood up.
I was calm, but cursing. Forgive me that, Lord! Cursing the dog, cursing my hip, cursing my bike, but somehow leaving out the dog owner. Yes, the dog owner... should I go up and knock on the door?
I started checking equipment, and had everything checked out I probably would have just ridden off. It wasn't. First and most obvious problem was the handlebar was broken off on the left side. My left shifter was broken. That's about $250 worth of damage to start, and was likely to only go up from there. My Garmin was fine, but my drink system took a beating. I hit so hard the liner came out of the bottle lid!
As for myself, I was bleeding from a tear in my left ring finger - nothing serious, and I ignored it. My left leg was scraped below the knee, and there was some bark peeled from my left arm and shoulder. So far there was nothing that would keep me from going on. The hip though... it throbbed a bit. You never know for sure how those will go. Sometimes you can walk them off, sometimes you can't.
Allen was of course very concerned, asked if I needed him to get help, which I waved off. My only decision now was whether or not I would knock on the door or ride off. I decided someone needed to talk to the owners, and it might as well be me. I managed a stiff-legged walk up to the door, knocked, asked for the mom or dad, and mom appeared.
Believe it or not, I was calm. Ask Allen! I didn't raise my voice, I only told them what happened, that they'd better do something to prevent that from happening in the future, and finally that the dog was likely very injured. The lady said she understood, and asked what time we usually ride. That's right, she was planning to pen the dog up during our designated hours of riding!
"That won't work." says I. "Many riders come through here all the time. We use this road to stay off high traffic areas. I'm not the suing type, but next time you might not be so lucky."
That was pretty much the extent of it. To tell the truth, I wasn't angry, I wasn't upset, it was all very matter-of-fact. The only thing left to do was to try to ride home, assess all the damage to me and the bike, and decide what to do about it. Sure, I knew I'd probably be angry later, but at that time anger would only be in the way. Had to keep the head clear.
Back at Lighthouse, I got off the bike and for the first time knew it was serious. I could hardly stand or walk. I waved Allen off - didn't want to worry him - and loaded up my equipment. At home it was all I could do to get the stuff off the vehicle and get myself into the house. My daughter was home, and I faked it for her, too. Leisa had a ton of things she had to do, and I didn't want her texting mom that I'd been in a bike wreck. I was trying to decided if I was going to get X-rays or not, so I made a sandwich and sat down. Shortly after that Leisa came home. She spotted immediately I was hurt, and once I told her what happened she ordered me into the car. She was upset enough I knew I couldn't out wrestle her with a bad hip!
After a long night in the emergency room (who hasn't done that before?) the report came back as good as it could under the circumstances. Nothing broken! I did severely stretch and twist the ligaments, and it is good and sore. In a few days I should be better, though I could see a week missed easily. There's nothing to do for it, no reason dwell, only thing left is to figure out how to train around it. I can still swim. And that's what I'll be doing.
There was no way I could work today. I couldn't effectively monitor what the students were doing from a seat, and there is no way I could walk around a classroom. I can drive though, so I took the bike up to Bike Doctor. I asked him to go through it all, and before he fixed anything to quote me some prices. I know for a fact the handlebars, aerobars, and shifters are gone. What I'm afraid of is the frame is gone, too. There is quite a bit of rattle in the headset. That's a $1700 frame replacement, and between that and the flight deck, I would be better off buying a new bike.
What is clear at this point is Cicero is out. I have no hip and no bike. If the bike is not fixable, that's likely Ironman as well. It's money I just can't spend. That's the down side.
It was a pleasant ride, up to that most unpleasant moment. We had a tailwind and were cruising along a bit over 20 mph heading north back to Lighthouse. We'd come out the Super 2, but as usual Allen wanted to cross 37 to make a loop. He also likes to head up 337 to Pat's Plants, then turn north. I guess I'm saying it's all his fault.
Allen called out the dog, I saw it. The dog was on a small hill to my left, Allen on my right, and of course the stupid dog went straight for Allen. What is it about Allen's calves that make the dog go for the guy across the road? (Same thing happened on Sunday, only it was a pitbull, and I rode him down.) I saw it all the way. I asked myself, "Is it really going to run right in front of the bike?!" This all happened in a split second, there was no time to stop.
BOOM! I struck the dog broadside, right on the rib cage. This locked the front wheel, and over the top and to the left I went. Felled like a giant oak, the full force of the impact came simultaneously on the left handlebar and shifter and my hip, then the upper body slapped forward. I managed a tuck on the left shoulder, which was better than sticking out the arm (which would have snapped me at the shoulder or collar bone). My head bounced once off the pavement - thank goodness for my helmet! Once on the ground, I skidded to a halt.
At the moment of impact, my first thought was, "Man, I forgot how much this hurts." That actually kind of cracks me up. Heh. Like it was just another day at the office. My next thought was about getting up. I wasn't going to lay there like some wuss.
As odd as it sounds, I was trapped under my bike. Both feet were still clipped, and while it was easy to clear the right leg, the bike lay on my left, and I couldn't twist my leg - my left hip was already in distress. I denied the possibility of it being broken, and began to try to drag myself out from under the bike. My mind flashed back to Gary Flynn crawling back to Washington Ave after falling, and I wasn't having it. With a final twist, I was free, and I stood up.
I was calm, but cursing. Forgive me that, Lord! Cursing the dog, cursing my hip, cursing my bike, but somehow leaving out the dog owner. Yes, the dog owner... should I go up and knock on the door?
I started checking equipment, and had everything checked out I probably would have just ridden off. It wasn't. First and most obvious problem was the handlebar was broken off on the left side. My left shifter was broken. That's about $250 worth of damage to start, and was likely to only go up from there. My Garmin was fine, but my drink system took a beating. I hit so hard the liner came out of the bottle lid!
As for myself, I was bleeding from a tear in my left ring finger - nothing serious, and I ignored it. My left leg was scraped below the knee, and there was some bark peeled from my left arm and shoulder. So far there was nothing that would keep me from going on. The hip though... it throbbed a bit. You never know for sure how those will go. Sometimes you can walk them off, sometimes you can't.
Allen was of course very concerned, asked if I needed him to get help, which I waved off. My only decision now was whether or not I would knock on the door or ride off. I decided someone needed to talk to the owners, and it might as well be me. I managed a stiff-legged walk up to the door, knocked, asked for the mom or dad, and mom appeared.
Believe it or not, I was calm. Ask Allen! I didn't raise my voice, I only told them what happened, that they'd better do something to prevent that from happening in the future, and finally that the dog was likely very injured. The lady said she understood, and asked what time we usually ride. That's right, she was planning to pen the dog up during our designated hours of riding!
"That won't work." says I. "Many riders come through here all the time. We use this road to stay off high traffic areas. I'm not the suing type, but next time you might not be so lucky."
That was pretty much the extent of it. To tell the truth, I wasn't angry, I wasn't upset, it was all very matter-of-fact. The only thing left to do was to try to ride home, assess all the damage to me and the bike, and decide what to do about it. Sure, I knew I'd probably be angry later, but at that time anger would only be in the way. Had to keep the head clear.
Back at Lighthouse, I got off the bike and for the first time knew it was serious. I could hardly stand or walk. I waved Allen off - didn't want to worry him - and loaded up my equipment. At home it was all I could do to get the stuff off the vehicle and get myself into the house. My daughter was home, and I faked it for her, too. Leisa had a ton of things she had to do, and I didn't want her texting mom that I'd been in a bike wreck. I was trying to decided if I was going to get X-rays or not, so I made a sandwich and sat down. Shortly after that Leisa came home. She spotted immediately I was hurt, and once I told her what happened she ordered me into the car. She was upset enough I knew I couldn't out wrestle her with a bad hip!
After a long night in the emergency room (who hasn't done that before?) the report came back as good as it could under the circumstances. Nothing broken! I did severely stretch and twist the ligaments, and it is good and sore. In a few days I should be better, though I could see a week missed easily. There's nothing to do for it, no reason dwell, only thing left is to figure out how to train around it. I can still swim. And that's what I'll be doing.
There was no way I could work today. I couldn't effectively monitor what the students were doing from a seat, and there is no way I could walk around a classroom. I can drive though, so I took the bike up to Bike Doctor. I asked him to go through it all, and before he fixed anything to quote me some prices. I know for a fact the handlebars, aerobars, and shifters are gone. What I'm afraid of is the frame is gone, too. There is quite a bit of rattle in the headset. That's a $1700 frame replacement, and between that and the flight deck, I would be better off buying a new bike.
What is clear at this point is Cicero is out. I have no hip and no bike. If the bike is not fixable, that's likely Ironman as well. It's money I just can't spend. That's the down side.
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