Table of Contents: The Big Bike Accident - September 1, 2004

I slept very late on Friday, probably until noon, so Ian was at work by the time I woke up. I had been able to wash some of the blood off of my face on Thursday, so I had begun to look a little less scary. But when I looked at myself in the mirror on Friday, I began to think that I looked scarier than I'd thought. I was a little worried about people's reactions to me when they came over that night.

I was laying on a couch in our screened-in porch when I heard someone coming up our walkway. I saw Ian's Dad Cougas through the screen, and felt some dread that someone besides Ian was going to see me, even though I'd invited a bunch of people over that night. My voice was still very croaky. I asked Cougas whether he was sure he wanted to see me.

But he had my bike. Another cyclist who'd reached the scene of the accident had been able to store it for me. Coincidentally, the cyclist was the owner of the Dexter Mill (a sort of country general store, with feed, seed, tack, clothes and lots of other things). We all loved that place, partly because one of its inhabitants - Angelo - was a huge fan of Larry McMurtry's "Lonesome Dove" (one book in a series of four, and also a mini-series).

Dexter Mill's motto was straight out of "Lonesome Dove" -- "We dont' rent pigs". Cougas had given us both Dexter Mill baseball caps embroidered with that motto. I'd bought little tiny plastic pigs there months ago, joking with Angelo that they might not rent pigs, but they obviously sold them. Cougas, Betsy, Ian, and I were also huge fans of "Lonesome Dove". We'd seen the mini-series multiple times and read the series of four books multiple times (I assume). I know that I've been through the books twice now.

But one of the other employees of the Dexter Mill had a gift for me, which Cougas delivered. This man had a theory about how the accident had happened. It appeared that the quick-release for the front wheel was loose. The wheel had separated from the bike. I guess Cougas must have known that I'd jumped the bike and told the owner. The man with the theory put two and two together and realized that I'd probably jumped the bike frame right off of the wheel, landing me fork-down (and face-down) on the pavement.

I felt really stupid, on one hand, because that meant that the accident was completely my fault. But by another token, this was also very good news. This meant that the accident had not been at all random. It was something completely avoidable in the future. I had gone from thinking I wouldn't resume road-riding to thinking that I might resume, but try to play it safer, like not go very fast. This explanation tipped the scales for me, and helped me to decide that I would indeed return to road riding.

Cougas took one look at me and cringed. He begged me to just go back to bed. He wondered whether I should try to have people over. He suggested I just send them packing when I got too tired. I promised I would. In the end I was glad I'd seen him, but it took some guts to show my face that first time to someone other than my husband. I guess it was good preparation for that evening, when I'd be having several people over.

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Table of Contents: The Big Bike Accident - September 1, 2004