I had my first bike accident today. It was partly due to too many people and partly due to my own carelessness. I honestly can't blame anyone else. I wasn't paying as much attention to the road as I should have been.
Riding down the Jones Beach bike path there are 3 bridges, the last of which is a drawbridge so that larger boats can pass along the waterways between Long Island and Jones Beach. Because the bridge opens- and on this particular occasion had just closed- the bike path along it's edge is not one straight shot of asphalt. The edges where the bridge comes together are serrated and covered in green-painted steel plates, with panels for different mechanics on either side. Around these panels are 3/4 inch gaps- precarious for anyone on a road bike.
I normally do my best to avoid these spots, considering how dangerous they can be. Today, with so many people on the path, and so many people barreling forward after the gates opening up- groups riding side-by-side, serious road riders passing recreational cyclists, children wobbling on unfamiliar bikes- I was forced to stick closer to the right side- and the dangerous panels- that I'm normally comfortable with.
And for good reason.
I don't remember what happened right before, if I was looking back, or just thought my wheel was somewhere it wasn't, but all of a sudden my front wheel was in the channel. It wasn't so much the wheel falling into the channel, as the channel coming to an abrupt end that caused my problems.
It couldn't have been more than a split second before I hit the ground, but I remember thinking that whatever happened next was going to hurt. Because it all happened so fast, I didn't even get my hands out to brace my fall, nor did I have time to unclip from my pedals.
I stopped the ground with my chin, and shortly after, my knees.
Immediately after that, despite his best efforts, my Partner in Crime, who was riding right behind me, ran over my left leg, and bailed out of his own bike in the process. Luckily for both of us he was on his City bike, and not riding his Tri bike- in which case he would also have been clipped in. It might have been two of us taking trips to the hospital for stitches, or worse.
By some miracle, both my shoes came unclipped from my pedals in the crash and I didn't lose consciousness. I remember coming up on my hands and knees and having blood pouring from my face onto my hand. I hadn't yet established where exactly the blood was coming from but, the crash quite literally knocked the snot out of me, but it wasn't bloody and well, my nose didn't hurt so I assumed it wasn't the source of the blood.
I rolled onto my back, helmet still on, and was for a moment, just blood and pain.
I curled my knees into my chest, my hand to my chin- which, being the first part of my body to contact the ground, was split open and bleeding profusely. My Partner in Crime (and in Bike Crashes) rushed over and grabbed me. I remember looking up at him and telling him to let me lie there and leave my helmet on. He was panic stricken; I can only imagine how bad it must have been to see me go ass-over-teakettle face first into a steel plate on the ground.
As I lay there I started a 'self-diagnostic', seeing what was in pain, and what, if anything was broken. By this point a couple of people had already stopped. One asked if we were OK and if he should call an ambulance. I said yes, if only because I hadn't even had time to establish the extent of my injuries. The second person to stop was a Bellmore EMT, asking if I wanted ice. Again, I assented, knowing my chin was definitely bleeding and my knees had taken a beating.
I have to admit that I'm amazed and very grateful that people stopped, not to mention that the people who did stop were amazingly helpful. I lay there on the ground for quite some time, getting my bearings, establishing that nothing was broken. The EMT who stopped asked the typical head-injury questions.
"What's your name?" Meghan
"What day is it?" Saturday... May 21st... Oh, wait, it's the Rapture!
"Who's the President?" Obama... thank god it's not Bush.
I could push my feet down and pull them up, I could feel all my toes and all my fingers.
The next person to stop was a driver, who was also an EMT, this time from South Merrick. He saw the commotion and stopped to see if he could help, which was fortuitous because at this point I was still lying on my back, bleeding profusely. The first gentleman to stop, who had called the ambulance, had continued on his way, so though I knew there was someone coming, I wasn't sure when.
The South Merrick EMT pulled out a large medical kit, and more importantly gloves and clean gauze for my chin. Feeling somewhat steady, I sat up at this point, I had taken off my helmet and run my hand through my hair. It came up covered in blood.
Though looking back I realize I had been laying on my back with my chin bleeding heavily- blood was bound to have dripped into my hair and down my arm- this was probably one of the scariest moments of the entire experience- seeing blood and not knowing where it had come from. The South Merrick EMT couldn't find a cut or anything on the back of my head, and I didn't feel dizzy, nauseated, or faint, so he, and I, didn't worry about it.
After sitting for a bit, I felt much better, though the bleeding hadn't stopped. I took off my road shoes, since I have a hard enough time walking in them when I haven't just been thrown from my bike and stood up. At this point I felt OK enough to joke with my rescuers, and try to put a plan together for getting me to the hospital and the bikes home.
Then the drama started. I had already told both EMT's my name, I'm assuming as part of their head-injury checklist. Then the State Troopers- 2 of them- showed up asking the same information all over again. One of them was the first to make the joke about stopping the road with my face. Then came a Wantagh EMT, solo, who eventually took my Partner in Crime and both bikes back to my house. I'm pretty sure he asked me the same questions- name, birthday, age- all over again as well. Then the ambulance from Harbor House, with 3 more EMTs (or EMT's in training, I'm not sure about one of them).
I was scurried off into the ambulance before I knew what was happening. I had the foresight to grab my cell phone and license, but not much else. I left my Partner in Crime to handle the details of getting home, getting the bikes home, and getting himself to the hospital. Thanking everyone as I left with a wave doesn't even come close to the gratitude that they deserve.
Stay tuned for the (not-so) thrilling conclusion of Meghan's Accidental Adventure.
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