After our hike yesterday, it was such a beautiful afternoon, that I decided to take the long way home. We drove north out of Masonville and headed toward Stove Prairie. I love, love, love this drive. So do a lot of other people, apparently, because there was a lot of traffic, considering. Lots of motorcyclists were out as well, because this stretch of road is just beautiful. Horse pastures, meadows, tall pines, alpaca paddocks, ponds...etc. We headed north towards Stove Prairie, and I noticed that there were a couple of other cars tagging along behind me. I wasn't going slow or anything, I think they were just enjoying the drive as much as we were. Anyway...
I was getting close to the turn-off at Stove Prairie... maybe a couple of miles to go. I came around a sharp bend and saw before me a scene that made my heart just stop. A motorcyclist was laying on the pavement in the oncoming lane, his motorcycle laying across his legs. No one else was around. I slowed down as I pulled up to him, and called out to him as I jumped out of the van, engine running. He was staring at the sky. I again felt my heart stop. Then he blinked. And let out a low moan. Oh man.... I knelt down and looked in his eyes, and started asking questions...
"Are you okay?"
"Can you tell me your name?"
"Where does it hurt?"
"Can you wiggle your toes/fingers?"
"Are you able to breath okay?"
"Were you riding alone?"
It was eerily quiet for what seemed like a long time, but it could have only been less than a minute, because the other cars that were traveling behind me were pulling up to the scene as well. Two guys pulled the bike off the injured rider. His foot had been pinned under the gas tank, but the bike seemed like a pretty light bike. He could even move his foot after it was freed. I realized then that I had left the van running, so I went to move it to closer to the shoulder and shut it off. In the meantime, one of the guys who came to help suggested the rider try and sit up. Idiot... I yelled out as I ran back to keep the guy laying still, but it was too late. He went as white as a sheet and his eyes rolled back. I reached out and grabbed the lapel of his leather jacket to prevent him from hitting the pavement as he fainted. Luckily, he came to within a few seconds.
Then I felt the frustration of not knowing what to do for him. He was obviously not paralyzed. He had sensation and nothing appeared to be broken (but he was also in a state of shock - so he may not have been registering pain in a proper way). No blood (oh thank god...), and he was able to breath without difficulty. None of us could get a cell signal, and a guy that must have been a local went off to call for help from a nearby residence. What else can you do except keep him still? Another motorist arrived, and got a blanket from his car. Of course!! (I should have thought of that). So there we were. Five onlookers, anxious for help to arrive, and the injured rider, still laying on the side of the road. He was able to talk to us, tell us his name, where he lived and so on. We all thanked him profusely for wearing his helmet. ( I shudder to think what the accident scene would have looked like if he had not...) Another guy teased him about the road rash he was going to have. We all looked at the dirt embankment he must have hit, and made guesses at what must have happened...
Then the unmistakable call of a peacock rung out across the small ravine we were in. A turkey called out in response from the other direction. Then you could hear Jordan yell from the car, "What was THAT?!". The peacock called out again. Then the turkey. Back and forth. Back and forth. Then the turkey flew across the road and passed through a clearing. We all commented about the turkey. And then I looked down and saw the injured rider, laying on the pavement. He was just staring up at the sky... probably thinking to himself that we were all a bunch of weirdos, commenting about a turkey instead of helping him.
The emergency vehicles showed up about five minutes later and took over the scene. It was such a relief that help was finally there. It must have been a total of 20 minutes from the time I arrived to that point. All I could think of the entire time was that my brother often goes on rides like this, and this could have just as easily been him - and I would hope that whoever came to his aid would be just as helpful (except for the encouraging him to sit up bit).
This guy did everything right. He wore a helmet - which bore deep scratches on the back where he had skidded across the pavement. He wore a leather jacket, gloves and protective pants - and I think they went a long way to keep his skin intact. He wasn't traveling at an extremely high rate of speed, because the damage to the dirt embankment was minimal, and there was no impact damage on his bike - just scrapes along the side where he slid across the pavement. We think that he just hit gravel along the edge of the road and went into a skid he couldn't pull out of. The windshield had torn away, as well as the side mirror. His helmet's visor was up when I found him. I don't know how it got that way. All I can say is that he was lucky, lucky, lucky. I am guessing that his injuries include a concussion, a minor ankle injury, and a very, very sore rear-end.
Jordan, bless him, was busy leafing through his Boy Scout manual (which he had with him for the hike), looking for advice on how to treat the injured man. I am just so, so thankful that it wasn't worse... or a fatality. I hope he is home, recovering.
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