Categories: Guest Article

Guest Article: I’ve Fallen for You

photo: paramount pictures

What does this have to do with the Worlds? Nothing, but it makes me laugh and includes a wicked photograph so this is the guest article today. @roadslave joined the 2012 Keepers Tour for the full week of riding and ranting and he was excellent at both. He rode at the front with a Chris Horner smile and now he admits to only riding for four years. Fair enough, with only four years in, there is still time for a few firsts. Here is one.

VLVV, Gianni.

It should be no surprise that, having grown up in the 80s, one of my favourite movies of all time is Top Gun. There aren’t many situations in life that can’t be fitted to one of the many great quotes from the film, and there are certainly many that can be adapted to cycling (“It’s too steep, I’m switching to guns”, etc). Anyhow, you remember that bit when Shorty gets told off in class for flying too aggressively, (“gutsiest move I ever saw, man”) and gets on his huge, err, throbbing motorbike to be chased through San Diego by Kelly McGillis?

“My review of your performance was right on, in my professional opinion”

“Jesus, and you call me reckless. When I fly, my crew and my plane come first”

 “I’m gonna finish my sentence. My review of your performance was right on. I see some real genius in your flying. But I can’t say that in there. I was afraid they’d see right through me. I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve fallen for you.”

Now, I’ve been cycling for a little over four years. I’ve covered tens of thousands of kilometres on six bikes in seven countries on two continents. I’ve bored most people I know with how much I love cycling. I’ve begun to follow the pro cyclists, and have even ridden some of their rides. And I’ve spent too long on sites like this talking about cycling when I could have been using the Internet for useful stuff, like, err, porn. But, up until last month, I’d never fallen for it. I have now, and boy, it hurt.

It was a stoopid fall. A through-and-off at the end of a fabulous long ride, out with a buddy on a cold, crisp winter’s morning in the hills southwest of London. On the drag back into town, a miscommunication – I thought he was going for it, but he was actually sitting up. Our wheels overlapped. He steered the way he thought would get me out of it, but no. A 50/50 chance, and the house won. BOOM! Tarmac, Roadslave, Roadslave, tarmac. Introductions at over 45 kmh are always going to be a little bit rushed, but even so. Helmet was cracked in two, shredded sacred garments out at the elbows (sorry, Frank), leg warmers and gloves in tatters, road rash on face, elbows and knees, and the most sodding awful bruise on my hip.

Amazingly, other than it looking like someone had taken an angle-grinder to my Ergo-levers and saddle, Bike No. 1 was ok. As, by and large was I. Nothing was broken, no concussion, no lasting damage (I hope). Which was amazing, given the physics of the deceleration, the road, my weight, and ending up on my face in the oncoming traffic lane.

Adrenalin is a wonderful thing. I was on my feet in no time, picked up and checked the bike, rode the last 20 km home, and hosted 20 five-year olds, plus parents, for my son’s fifth birthday. It was only later that things went a bit doolalley. The shock came that afternoon. Uncontrollable shaking, feeling faint, wanting to throw up. Mind you, that could have been the impact of the 20 five-year olds. The stiffness came the next morning (written with a straight face… probably the most painful bit of the whole episode was getting out of bed that day.) The whiplash came on Day Three. I still can’t fully look over my right shoulder and there is still bruising weeks after the event. I won’t go into details, but if you’ve ever watched CSI, you’ll know about blood pooling and gravitational effects. Suffice it to say, I’ve had some swelling and discolouration in some strange and unexpected places.

I was off the bike for six days. Irritable, bored, grumpy. I had been planning on doing a big block of training just prior to Christmas. Why?

a) It’s what the pros do.

b) It just sounds cool. “I’m doing a big block now to lay the foundations for the cobbles in April”

c) I was changing jobs, so had the time on my hands but the training was out the window. I moped about the house, lost and forlorn.

When I did get back on, yes there was residual soreness and stiffness, but it made my heart soar to be back in the saddle. I honestly believe that was when the healing process really started. Admittedly, I rode like Nick Clegg/Barack Obama (apply to whichever country is appropriate, insert your own weak politician, etc). I had no power, no stamina, no confidence. As my US cycling sensei told me, my body had basically gone into blue screen mode. But it still felt so good to be back riding again. I (or rather my backside) became a bit of a local celebrity, and we did the round of Christmas parties, gallery openings, and for a few seconds, trended on Twitter.

The Stig, our tame racing cyclist, was pretty matter of fact:

“Bummer.  Biggest cause of accidents. Period. You hear the ‘Zippp’, you prepare for the worst. Last time I crashed, it was in the finishing sprint of a big crit and wheels overlapped. Tore so much skin off my thigh that I was in hospital for weeks getting a square foot of skin graft. I was lucky. The other guy lost his thumb, and the third guy fractured his skull and was in a coma for two weeks – he was the only guy not writhing around on the ground screaming like a little girl.”

It was the response of my non-cycling friends and family that surprised me the most: zero sympathy, lots of anger (“how could you have been so stupid? To pick today, of all days, when you knew we had the kids party?”) and much encouragement to take up golf (thanks, Dad). When she saw the bruise, and the red mist had cleared, the wife forced me to go to the ER. The doctor’s response was priceless; “So, you fell off your bike, and you have a bruise and your wife has made you come to have it checked out?  Well, it looks fine to me.” He was looking at the small road rash above my left eyebrow. “That’s not the bruise I want checked out… this is.” “JEEESUS!” At which point he ran off, leaving me with my pants down, to get the other doctors into the cubicle. What, you want a second opinion? “No, I just want them to see this.”

The most thoughtful response was from my US cycling sensei via email. I think it’s worth sharing in its entirety:

“The overlapped wheel. No one gets away for long without going down because of that. Ask the pros. It amazes me how often big groups go down in the peloton because of it. For all the riding you’ve done – and challenging riding at that – you can feel good that it hasn’t happened before. As you now know, the worst part of those falls is that you literally get catapulted into the pavement; there’s no sliding or deceleration of one’s body. Of the several times I’ve gone down, about 1/3 are because of overlap. I broke my hand once. Glad to hear the bike is ok – but a shame about the cosmetic damage. I can understand why the wife is upset, as I know you do too. Funny – if you’d gotten injured in a car crash, it would be nothing but sympathy from her. But because you (we), as grown men, choose to dress up in tights like superheroes to pedal half the day on the open road on what most adults see as a child’s toy… well, I think most see it as borderline selfish, risk-taking behaviour… how do you explain to the kids that their dad got seriously injured doing something that was totally voluntary. Hence, IMO, the disproportionate reactions to cyclists on the road (how dare they enjoy themselves while I have things to do!). That’s just my take on it… I know plenty of guys that pretty much stopped cycling after they had kids – not just because of time constraints, but also because of knowing how bad cycling crash injuries can be and how it might impact their families. Personally, I think that was an extreme position for them to take, but then, I don’t have kids.”

Now, I know it’s supposed to be taboo to talk about this stuff – and, indeed, it is in breach of the new Rule #81. (This did happen before its introduction.) But I really don’t know if I’m lucky – after all, it could have been a helluva lot worse. Or am I plain idiotic (see Rob’s excellent article on overlapping wheels), unlucky (proper cyclists rarely fall), or normal (this is just something that happens from time to time, so get used to it)?

Forget the responses of non-cyclists – we tolerate them at the best of times. All of my cycling buddies gave me comradely and knowing looks, as if I’d passed some rite of passage, and was now a proper cyclist. Have I? Am I? Just the other day, @Houdini was describing another rider to me: “He rides like someone who hasn’t fallen off yet.” Before this fall, I would have had no idea what he was on about, but now I get it totally.

As with most things cycling, when in doubt, I look to the pros. And my conviction is that falling is a rite of passage. It’s what proper cyclists do. Getting back on defines the true cyclist. Hoogerland is defined by his fall, Cavendish either wins or crashes and burns. There is no middle ground. Part of our love for JENS! is because we saw him bounce his face down a mountain in 2007, or in 2011 when he went down twice, swore at the camera crew, got back on and up to the front, and rode tempo for the next hour in service of his (undeserving) team leaders.

Then there is the dark side. We know these falls can lead to the bad places where we do not want to go. These occasional tragedies unite cycling like no other event. IMHO there is nothing more noble, more heartbreaking, or that stirs greater pride, than a neutralised, mournful peloton. Self-shackled race horses. Chapeau Millar, the dignified master of ceremonies for the last horror, grew as a cyclist and as a human that day.

So, while a first fall is a rite of passage, it is also a warning of where not to go and what not do to. For each fall we get up from, we have the adrenaline-primed happiness of knowing it could have been much, much worse.

I am a cyclist, today is a good day, today I rode on.

[dmalbum path=”/velominati.com/content/Photo Galleries/j.andrews3@comcast.net/Nigel/”/]

roadslave

roadslave believes that we don't choose cycling... it chooses us. He tried for 35 years to hide from his destiny, playing front-row rugby, and being too stubborn to admit he was too small to row, until he was dragged, kicking and screaming to the prologue of the 2007 Tour de France in London. From that moment on, he was hooked. He lives in London, has two children and a long-suffering wife, and believes that somewhere, deep inside of him is a perfectly competent cyclist waiting to get out. It's a work in progress... XXL in 2009, XL in 2010 and L in 2011... eventually he'll be wearing a jersey that doesn't cover his (by that stage, bony) arse. However, at that point he'll probably have to stop drinking bottles and bottles of red wine, his other great passion. His favourite rules are Rule 9 and Rule 12... Rule V is, obviously, compulsory. He never rides alone, because inside his head he hears voices: Jorgen Leth's voiceover man, Paul Sherwen, Phil Liggett. He secretly believes that 'Breaking Away' is a documentary, and that 'The Rider' is only a work of fiction.

View Comments

  • @ten B

    jesus christ! How do I get that image out my brain? Did he crash into the DPW wood chipper detail on the side of the road? 

    Thanks for at least linking that. Cyclops would have just posted up. He is an animal.

  • The timing of this article is eerie.  Last night I had a 280km ride planned starting at midnight.  I needed some last minute food, so made a ride over to pick up some rice cakes.  A nice light drizzle had started, and I was in bliss, as I very much enjoy a rain ride.  There's a bridge I have to cross, the type with a metal crisscross of floor, resembling more of a cheese grater than an architectural structure.  Now I've always had an aversion to this bridge, as it's just scary when dry, but as I would find out, down and down crazy when a hint of moisture is in the air.

    Lucky, there was no traffic behind me, seemingly a first for every time I've had to cross it, there is a line of cars zooming by.  I feel the rear slip and immediately thinking "here it comes", and bam, down I go, hard on my left side.  Just as fast as I went down, I bounced back up, grabbing my bike and walking as fast as I can in carbon fiber soles across what seemed to be icy pond of metal, offering zero traction.  

    Once back on the concrete end of things, I give myself a once over and notice the grater took a toll on me: knees, hands, shoulder, helmet.  A good amount of blood leaking from here and there, but I was pretty loaded on adrenaline that none of the pain was evident with the damage.  I reached my food stop with ideas of grandeur, that I'd grab the food, and be on with the ride.  After hopping off the bike and collecting the items, the chemical rush wore off, and was hit with nausea and dry heaves.  So much for that ride.  Scrap bin for the time being.

    20 hours later and I can only think of a few things:1) I just got that helmet 2) none of my kit was torn 3) it's very difficult to shift the front mech 4) I'm a day behind on the Strava challenge 5) my sunnies never fell off the back of my neck.  I'm a bit mental for sure, but aren't we all one way or another?

    Everyone's stories in here are very encouraging.  That just might be what makes our glass half full.

     

  • @ten B

    @brett

    @ten B

    +1 x 2...

    What is the Tarantino scene from?

    It's from Google. Seriously though, apparently It's from a movie called "Sleep with Me", which I haven't seen.

    Oh, and for the masochists out there (and perhaps the sadists too - you perverted w****er c***s) a photo of my bro's knee injury (I decided to link it instead of posting for the squeamish little girls out there):

    Ouchie

    Yes!  That is an awesome injury!  An ortho's wet dream right there, baby.  It will be a while before he is powering any cranks, though.  Hope he makes a full recovery.  That is a beast of an injury!

  • @roger

    Man!  That's crazy!  Those grate bridges are deadly.  Very happily amazed that you were not hurt worse.  Hope you heal quickly!  

    By the way, are you still pissing blood or did you get that looked at and taken care of???

  • @Buck Rogers It has been one issue after another lately.   man period stopped.  Doc said it was likely from some blunt impact to testicles.  Saving grace is Autumn weather.  I absolutely love wearing warmers and gilets.  I saw you mention a NY cogal, weekend of the 20th I am busy, but would love to make it any of the other dates!

  • @Roger

    @Buck Rogers It has been one issue after another lately.   man period stopped.  Doc said it was likely from some blunt impact to testicles.  Saving grace is Autumn weather.  I absolutely love wearing warmers and gilets.  I saw you mention a NY cogal, weekend of the 20th I am busy, but would love to make it any of the other dates!

     

    What about the weekend after?  27th?  Questioning if it will be too cold but will move dates to accomadate you!
  • I appreciate it Buck, but don't go by my schedule.  That's the only weekend that doesnt work for me, but I'll be there any other dates you pick.  

  • @Gianni

    F-150 coming in the other direction turned left In front of him. According to Strava he was doing 33kph, and he figures the truck was doing 50ish. Caught the headlight at the knee. The driver had to be admitted to hospital for shock. He had a couple of surguries, but is hoping to get back into triathlons.

    As horrific as his injury looks, any time you have an accident like that, and you're still breathing and can feel all of your limbs, you have to be grateful. It's funny (in a macabre sort of way), but I could easily not have survived my crash, and the only external signs would have been some road rash on my knee and hands.

    I can't stress this any more strongly: get a blindingly bright flasher for solo rides, and use it day and night (and augment with a steady for illumination if required). Yeah, they're ugly and the battery pack is heavy, but I think we owe it to the people who indulge our passion.

  • Well, on today's ride as I was taking the MUP out of town to some country climbs I wanted to try, I saw a kid and grandma bite it on some uneven surface (roots under the path). They both did head-over-heels flips one after the other.

    Grandmother broke her wrist, the kid just had a scratch on her chin. Thankfully her husband wasn't far behind, and we got 911 called to assist her.

    Back onto my ride, way out in the middle nowhere I had some fucking yapper dog run out of a yard right in front of me, so I had to slow way down so I wouldn't hit it at speed (and crash myself). It then started to attack my ankle as soon as I slowed. Fucking dog. Got away from that with just a scratch, thankfully.

    I also missed my turn a bit further on and wound up climbing an extra 300m I didn't need to do. Oh well. Weird day!

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roadslave

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