Through the Air with the Greatest of Ease...
This trip was scheduled to take 1-2 months and to cover approximately 4500 miles. So you can imagine my surprise when I woke up today - the first day of this trip - took a shower, ate breakfast, packed up my tent, turned onto I-10, and found myself thirty minutes later sailing through the air after being hit by a truck at 70mph.
I have always been nervous about riding. I was in an accident in Taiwan back in 1994. I had just purchased a small motorcycle with my old friend Tim Russell and as I was following him home that night, I wasn't able to swerve to miss an unmarked, kiddie pool-sized pothole in middle of the road. I drove down into the hole and the bike kicked up and threw me in the air, landing me upside down on my shoulder and back in the middle of the dark road. I did have a helmet on but not much more than that and I got a lot of road rash and asphalt embedded in my shoulder. You would think an accident like that is enough to make you think twice about motorcycles but I decided it was ok to continue riding - the accident was not my fault and just a product of bad luck.
In a philosophical way, I would say today's accident was similar. Let me set the scene. I-10 is just SW of Phoenix and there are four lanes of traffic. On my side there are two - one for regular travel and one for passing. Traffic going in the other direction has the same two lanes. And between the two is a wide median approximately 30 yards across and sunk maybe 8 feet below the grade of the highway - basically a huge ditch that splits the two roads so that anyone who drives down into the median will not make it back up on to the other side into oncoming traffic. (At least, in theory.)
I was traveling about 70mph and I was in the right hand lane. I had just called my father on my Bluetooth-equipped helmet - the first call I'd ever made with it. We marveled at how clear the sound was and what a great time I was having on the trip so far and where I camped last night...
What happened next started out almost in slow motion - in fact I had enough time to say something like, "Hold on Dad, something is happening." Just ahead of me, I saw a huge cloud of dust in the median instantly followed by a pickup truck blasting out of the dust cloud and fishtailing wildly right toward me. Then things went into hyper speed - the truck smashed into the up-slope onto our side of the highway causing it to fly into the air, land on its side in our passing lane and proceeded to smash into me.
I'm not exactly clear about the impact - I don't know if I hit the truck bed itself or just got smashed by all the things that spilled out of the truck bed. I remember seeing a blur of big items all around me at the moment I got hit - I fishtailed for an instant and then got launched. (Turns out he had a cooler and a suitcase and moving dolly and other stuff that went all over the highway.)
I also don't really remember going up into the air. The gentleman two cars behind me said he saw me fly up over the roof of the car between us (meaning I was in the air high enough for him to see me over the car in front of him). Through the blur I remember the impact and then sliding and rolling for what seemed like an eternity. To add insult to injury, towards the end of the slide I took an almost laughable beating from the rumble strip in the breakdown lane where I finally came to a stop. The bike skidded to a stop next to me and was already pouring oil and gas and smoke.
Things felt swimmy and surreal. I slowly stood up, felt my body, checked that all my pieces and parts were still attached, and then said into my helmet, "Dad, I was just in a huge accident. But I think I am ok." My poor Dad - he was on the phone the entire time this happened and despite the phone getting thrown clear 20 feet behind me, smashing on the pavement and getting doused with oil, it was was still transmitting to my helmet. (In fact, Siri kept chiming in with directions, saying "Continue going north on I-10.")
That's a long way of saying that a guy driving a truck on the other side of the highway lost control. The truck drove down into the median, fishtailed for about 50 yards, roared up the up-slope next to our lanes, flew into the air and landed on it's side, smashing into me and other oncoming traffic.
It took literally seconds before the first patrol car showed up. And within what seemed like no more than two minutes there were patrol cars everywhere, ambulances and three fire trucks. I was immediately inspected my paramedics and aside from some bad bruises and bloody scrapes on my arm, it was determined that I was ok. Nothing broken, no head trauma. (Over the next week, I experienced terrible pain - something the paramedics forecasted - but at the time of the accident, I was probably loopy with adrenaline.) All the police and firemen and paramedics kept congratulating me on my boots and riding suit and gloves, saying that "dressing right" saved me from something that should have been much worse. I paid almost $1000 for that suit and knowing what I know now, I'd pay ten times that.
The guy driving the truck had massive injuries to his arm, which was outside the window when the truck came crashing down. They used the jaws of life to cut him out and hauled him to the hospital immediately. Another Land Rover had swerved to avoid the pileup and ended completely smashed down in the median. And a couple other cars had been sideswiped by the truck - no injuries but damage. The highway behind us was completely shut down for about 2 hours while they sorted everything out.
When everything was eventually cleared and traffic started to move again, I was left there with my bike in a pool of gas and oil and two officers waiting for the tow truck. In the crash, the bike had slid badly, grinding down the valve covers on both sides so you could look into the compression chamber and see the pistons and other inner workings. Gas and oil had sprayed all over the bike as well, making it resemble a beaten, bleeding animal. Coupled with the cosmetic damage and parts lying all over the highway, needless to say the bike was a total loss. It was such a beauty - I had that thing polished and dialed in and ready for this epic adventure. I had my new suit. My new helmet. My new boots. My new case liners. New camping gear. The bike overhauled with a complete safety check. It hurt to see it dragged onto a flatbed and hauled away - and I knew I was probably watching this incredible adventure being hauled away with it.
So this trip is - at least for now - over. Amazingly, the crash happened only about an hour away from my uncle's house in Scottsdale so I am here trying to figure out my next move (which will largely depend on what insurance tells me my options are). I may be on a flight to Portland in the next couple days, I may get a rental, or I may get a new bike. I really don't know how it will shake down. But they know I am stranded in Arizona so insurance tells me they will work quickly to get it figured out.
Whether it's a pothole in Taiwan or a guy falling asleep at the wheel in Phoenix, I would encourage you all to remember that even when it's not your fault, things happen that can change everything.
FIELD NOTES
Day 1: April 3
Breakfast: string cheese, apple, trail mix and hot tea
Lunch: none
Dinner: wedge salad, halibut, mashed, Tylenol
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| The day started beautifully. This was my view out of the tent this morning. |
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| A quiet space to spread out |
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| An early morning selfie |
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| I came into camp a dirty, hot mess the night before so things were just slightly disorganized |
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| Getting everything together while eating breakfast |
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| It couldn't have been a more beautiful day, and I took this on the way out of the campground |
I have always been nervous about riding. I was in an accident in Taiwan back in 1994. I had just purchased a small motorcycle with my old friend Tim Russell and as I was following him home that night, I wasn't able to swerve to miss an unmarked, kiddie pool-sized pothole in middle of the road. I drove down into the hole and the bike kicked up and threw me in the air, landing me upside down on my shoulder and back in the middle of the dark road. I did have a helmet on but not much more than that and I got a lot of road rash and asphalt embedded in my shoulder. You would think an accident like that is enough to make you think twice about motorcycles but I decided it was ok to continue riding - the accident was not my fault and just a product of bad luck.
In a philosophical way, I would say today's accident was similar. Let me set the scene. I-10 is just SW of Phoenix and there are four lanes of traffic. On my side there are two - one for regular travel and one for passing. Traffic going in the other direction has the same two lanes. And between the two is a wide median approximately 30 yards across and sunk maybe 8 feet below the grade of the highway - basically a huge ditch that splits the two roads so that anyone who drives down into the median will not make it back up on to the other side into oncoming traffic. (At least, in theory.)
I was traveling about 70mph and I was in the right hand lane. I had just called my father on my Bluetooth-equipped helmet - the first call I'd ever made with it. We marveled at how clear the sound was and what a great time I was having on the trip so far and where I camped last night...
What happened next started out almost in slow motion - in fact I had enough time to say something like, "Hold on Dad, something is happening." Just ahead of me, I saw a huge cloud of dust in the median instantly followed by a pickup truck blasting out of the dust cloud and fishtailing wildly right toward me. Then things went into hyper speed - the truck smashed into the up-slope onto our side of the highway causing it to fly into the air, land on its side in our passing lane and proceeded to smash into me.
I'm not exactly clear about the impact - I don't know if I hit the truck bed itself or just got smashed by all the things that spilled out of the truck bed. I remember seeing a blur of big items all around me at the moment I got hit - I fishtailed for an instant and then got launched. (Turns out he had a cooler and a suitcase and moving dolly and other stuff that went all over the highway.)
I also don't really remember going up into the air. The gentleman two cars behind me said he saw me fly up over the roof of the car between us (meaning I was in the air high enough for him to see me over the car in front of him). Through the blur I remember the impact and then sliding and rolling for what seemed like an eternity. To add insult to injury, towards the end of the slide I took an almost laughable beating from the rumble strip in the breakdown lane where I finally came to a stop. The bike skidded to a stop next to me and was already pouring oil and gas and smoke.
Things felt swimmy and surreal. I slowly stood up, felt my body, checked that all my pieces and parts were still attached, and then said into my helmet, "Dad, I was just in a huge accident. But I think I am ok." My poor Dad - he was on the phone the entire time this happened and despite the phone getting thrown clear 20 feet behind me, smashing on the pavement and getting doused with oil, it was was still transmitting to my helmet. (In fact, Siri kept chiming in with directions, saying "Continue going north on I-10.")
That's a long way of saying that a guy driving a truck on the other side of the highway lost control. The truck drove down into the median, fishtailed for about 50 yards, roared up the up-slope next to our lanes, flew into the air and landed on it's side, smashing into me and other oncoming traffic.
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| Half an hour later, this was me. The truck that caused the accident is up beyond that ambulance on the right. I included this photo to illustrate how far I slid with the bike after being struck by the truck way back up the highway. |
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| After the driver had been removed with the Jaws of Life |
It took literally seconds before the first patrol car showed up. And within what seemed like no more than two minutes there were patrol cars everywhere, ambulances and three fire trucks. I was immediately inspected my paramedics and aside from some bad bruises and bloody scrapes on my arm, it was determined that I was ok. Nothing broken, no head trauma. (Over the next week, I experienced terrible pain - something the paramedics forecasted - but at the time of the accident, I was probably loopy with adrenaline.) All the police and firemen and paramedics kept congratulating me on my boots and riding suit and gloves, saying that "dressing right" saved me from something that should have been much worse. I paid almost $1000 for that suit and knowing what I know now, I'd pay ten times that.
The guy driving the truck had massive injuries to his arm, which was outside the window when the truck came crashing down. They used the jaws of life to cut him out and hauled him to the hospital immediately. Another Land Rover had swerved to avoid the pileup and ended completely smashed down in the median. And a couple other cars had been sideswiped by the truck - no injuries but damage. The highway behind us was completely shut down for about 2 hours while they sorted everything out.
When everything was eventually cleared and traffic started to move again, I was left there with my bike in a pool of gas and oil and two officers waiting for the tow truck. In the crash, the bike had slid badly, grinding down the valve covers on both sides so you could look into the compression chamber and see the pistons and other inner workings. Gas and oil had sprayed all over the bike as well, making it resemble a beaten, bleeding animal. Coupled with the cosmetic damage and parts lying all over the highway, needless to say the bike was a total loss. It was such a beauty - I had that thing polished and dialed in and ready for this epic adventure. I had my new suit. My new helmet. My new boots. My new case liners. New camping gear. The bike overhauled with a complete safety check. It hurt to see it dragged onto a flatbed and hauled away - and I knew I was probably watching this incredible adventure being hauled away with it.
So this trip is - at least for now - over. Amazingly, the crash happened only about an hour away from my uncle's house in Scottsdale so I am here trying to figure out my next move (which will largely depend on what insurance tells me my options are). I may be on a flight to Portland in the next couple days, I may get a rental, or I may get a new bike. I really don't know how it will shake down. But they know I am stranded in Arizona so insurance tells me they will work quickly to get it figured out.
Whether it's a pothole in Taiwan or a guy falling asleep at the wheel in Phoenix, I would encourage you all to remember that even when it's not your fault, things happen that can change everything.
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| Rubber neckers on the other side of the highway started to line up |
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| A bit gruesome but you can see where they cut the guy out of the truck (and blood on the cut roof from his injuries) |
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| I am standing with the truck directly behind me - you can see my bike way in the distance |
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| Another car that got wrecked when they drove into the median while trying to avoid smashing into other cars |
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| "MaxBoom" - a bit ironic |
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| This was the traffic behind us - they closed the highway for 2 hours while they cleaned up the mess |
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| A few looks at where the suit took the hit |
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| The blood I do have is on my left arm where the road wore through the suit seen here. But I am amazed - every piece of armor - shoulders, knees, elbows - had massive rips. But my helmet? Barely a scratch. I have a wicked bruise on my thigh and on my ribs as well that will probably hurt like mad tomorrow. |
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| Worn through to the inside - on both sides |
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| Officer White - one of the fantastic people that helped me through all this. |
FIELD NOTES
Day 1: April 3
Breakfast: string cheese, apple, trail mix and hot tea
Lunch: none
Dinner: wedge salad, halibut, mashed, Tylenol
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Comments
All good comments and questions. Just a few thoughts:
I absolutely agree with you about riding while 100% focused. In my 30 years of riding, I never once rode without a helmet, after drinking alcohol, or with headphones. I have always been the "smart" rider. I took motorcycle safety training, I wore a full one-piece suit, I always avoided riding at night, etc. As riders, we all know the statistics and they are not good. So I always rode with vigilance and caution.
With that said, before this cross-country trip I made a calculated decision to install a Blutooth communication system in my helmet - not to communicate with anyone, but rather to get turn-by-turn directions without having to look down at a map or constantly pull over where I could get hit. (Having Siri right in my head and telling me where to go worked wonderfully and I would do it again.)
Earlier that day, I made the decision to try using the in-helmet hands-free phone at some point to call my Dad. In retrospect, would I make that call again? Maybe… maybe not. As you pointed out, distractions of any kind are asking for trouble. But in *this particular case*, the phone had nothing to do with the accident. I had plenty of time to watch the entire incident develop. I had enough time to tell my Dad to hold on. I had time to watch the truck fishtail in the median, fly up in the air and land in front of me. Phone or no phone, this guy was going to wipe me out. (BTW, it turns out he had a heart attack while driving and passed out - he didn’t fall asleep at the wheel as I originally was told.)
I am not disputing your point about 100% focus; it’s absolutely critical. And talking on the phone that day was a decision I did not take lightly and I wouldn’t judge anyone for questioning whether that was smart or not. But as mentioned above, in this specific case it was an unfortunately coincidence that the accident happened the very first time I made a call, and nothing more.
As to your other question about the suit: I have no experience with Olympia, Transit or Rukka but I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend the Aerostitch suit to anyone. It looked great, fit well and performed beautifully - the armor saved all my joints and the material held together well. As you can see from the pictures, the material did rip in several places, but all are where it had a firm backing - around the knee pads, the elbow pads, the shoulder… I had a slight bit of road rash on my wrist (about the size of a quarter - between the glove and jacket) and a similar spot near my elbow but I’ll take that any day considering what happened.
One thing to keep in mind is that I had the R-3 “Light” - I was taking a southern route and I wanted something that would keep me from melting. Would a leather jacket or regular R-3 offer better protection? Almost certainly. But for my purposes the Light did great. (And honestly, it was the armor that REALLY saved my bacon. If you get the jacket, buy the armor!! It doesn’t come with the suit which I found out the hard way.)
In the end, I disposed of the suit. Like a helmet that has been in a crash, I didn’t trust it to use again. Insurance paid to replace it anyway, but more relevant in my mind was your comment: “…considering the severity of the crash the condition of the suit is secondary and immaterial and condition of the rider much more important.” That’s exactly how I felt and not only am I mystified how I walked away, but I am amazed to be alive. Damn lucky in fact. Paying ~$1,000 for a suit was painful, but I would do it again in the heartbeat.
Glad this post made you a little more paranoid on your bike - we all should be. I am living proof that you never know what will happen - or what is out of our control.