Thought I might as well update you guys about a little incident I had on the 19th of October while riding my ZG1000 with a 10 other Concours riders.
Sorry this is the long version so grab a beer first...
It had started out as a freezing cold day, 32°F and no sun yet as it was about an hour before sunrise when I left home to meet a fellow rider at the junction of US35 and I-71 south of Columbus to ride up to the group meeting place east of Columbus on I-70. It would be a 2-1/2 hour ride to get to the group meeting point.
We pulled out of the gas station meeting place for the group at around 10am. The roads were boring for the first bit as we headed south to the Hocking Hills area. I fell in behind the number 6 bike, the riders name I'm told was Todd. He seemed a little apprehensive going into curves, lots of braking at various times from before to near the end of a curve. I had this feeling I should have passed him several times but didn't as I didn't want to push it that day and my buddy was matching me as he too didn't want to push it. Seemed like a perfect spot in the days ride for a more relaxed pace and besides with Mark at the rear we had a rider who knew these roads very well if the group got separated.
We had just came out of Bremen Ohio with about 20 miles under us already, just getting to the good part of the ride really. Tree's were more plentiful and in full fall colors. The road was getting curvy and hilly. The first thing I noticed was that just like last time I was riding here the road conditions were crappy again. Lots of gravel in the roads, I mean lots, especially in the curves! The county just before the wreck location had lots of poorly made patches and missing center lines. Though the roads were marginally better when we crossed the county line, "Todd" seemed tentative in his approach to curves and he was staying back further from the bike in front of him than most would. Now that the road was getting more curvy I really didn't want to pass him as I was sure he wouldn't deal with it so well if it were anything close to a tight pass, plus I didn't want my buddy feeling he had to push it either to stay with me.
I had dropped back a bit as Todd was forcing me to readjust my entry speeds in the previous curves by his uneven braking. I don't mean it in a crappy way toward Todd, he was trying to ride his own ride so this is not about him being the ultimate root cause of my get-off. After the curve before the final curve he suddenly sped up as the number 5 bike had disappeared from view. I came out of the curve and likewise slingshot my bike to the next curve. Just as I nearly caught up with him I see his brake light come on and could tell he was trying to dump speed in a hurry, right at the start of the apex of the curve. I have a hunch he might have got too far out near the edge and got target fixation on the telephone pole you see in the photos below. The curve is fairly blind to the left as you enter it until you're at the apex. He started to fishtail as the rear was locked on his bike, it looked for all the world like he was going to highside it.
This is where time both compresses and expands. There is a sudden quietness and the scene is like a snapshot in front of you, you have what seems like a lot of time to observe then all of the sudden it expands and your past the time to react. When I saw he was in trouble time slowed down. I looked at him and thought he might end up off the road but he and his bike might end up nearly if not completely blocking the road. Next I look to his left and see the oncoming is clear but there is an enormous amount of gravel out in the oncoming lane hay wagons or cars pulling it off of the berm. It stretched for most of the curve as far as I could see. I quickly realized that I could lean in more and take that lane but in doing so I stood a very good chance of doing the very same highside I expected him to be doing any fraction of a second. Fraction of seconds and all of this is running through my mind, more like reflex reaction than actual thought when this crap starts happening to you. Just as I reach the conclusion that I might pull it off even with the gravel I considered the real possibility I'd have to dodge him or his bike in the road.. maybe he would still be upright but crossing into the path I had just picked to avoid him, I have to slow down more myself, I have to be sure I picked the right route to avoid him and/or his bike... what's that rushing sound? It's time running out... if you been here you know what I mean by this...
I look quickly to the path of least desirable choice, the right and the outside of the curve. There it was a ditchless section before the telephone pole with a slight 2 foot or so berm rise about a yard and half from the edge of the road.
You could say I'm went back to my dirt bike days of thinking. I decide I can straighten out the curve, grab a whole lot more brake to dump speed before hitting the grass and just take it over the ridge all the while keeping a slight amount of braking on the front until I could safely stop or turn back up the hill. In my haste to choose I failed to notice the forest of "guy" wires that telephone pole had on it until I was committed to this course of action. Seeing that I was a little closer to them than I wanted to be in my chosen path I decided to risk more braking to dump more speed so I could hopefully steer the 850lbs of bike and me clear of the "cheese cutter". As soon as I pulled in the front brake a bit more the rear broke loose just as it left the pavement into the gravel on the edge of the road. I let off the rear but it was too late, the angle of the bike was all wrong and the front locked in the grass.
I felt the bike just shoot out from under me as the right sides brake pedal and peg buried into the ridge. I was pitched off though it felt like I was somewhat still on the bike. I came down on my right shoulder and right side of my my helmet. The helmet saved my life, the body armor mostly saved my shoulder and collar bone from breaking. The ground was nearly as hard as the road, no rain for a month and half on clay dirt makes for hard as hard gets with dirt. I looked at the gouge the bike left in the dirt afterward and it was about what you would have expected from the peg dragging on asphalt! Unreal how hard it was, it felt like pavement to me when my body hit it too! The impact of my shoulder hitting was too much, it was a "stinger" that went all the way down my arm and through my collar bone to my spine. It was red hot kind of pain that radiates in waves. The next treat was to feel my hip slam the rock hard dirt, it was equally as bad for being a stinger as I felt a hot flash of pain radiate from it in all directions from it too. My body had enough kinetic energy in it still that I actually thought the bike was driving me into the ground with its own weight. I was partially face down when my hip hit then I bounced over onto my back coming to a stop.
After a brief moment to assess my situation I had that thought everyone here has had in such an instance... f_ck, my bike! That thought didn't last long thought as the pain in my shoulder was intensifying to the point I didn't feel the hip. I realize I'm laying on the top of the ridge with my head slightly on the far downside of it. I try to raise myself up but the pain from the shoulder super intensifies from that act so I flop back down, I try again and my shoulder says "sure stupid, do that again, I got more of that for ya!". I start to feel like I can't breath with the visor down so I struggle to get it open, ahhh, air but wait a minute I still fell like I can't get enough air! Finally the pain backed off enough for me to get the damned strap off and sit up. I noticed the tank bag was to my left about 3 ft or so. It struck me that I remember it going with me off the bike probably from my left knee hitting it on the way off the bike. My buddy came up and helped me up and then he ran over to right the bike as it was pouring out gas.
Soon I turned my attention to Todd. He remarkably saved his bike at the last minute I'm assuming by releasing the rear brake and the bike shot into the ditch line where it is much deeper on the downside of the curve. Though his bike suffered similar damage, he was totally uninjured as he was not ejected since the bike stayed closer to upright. He came over as soon as he could, he expressed his concern for me and wanted to be sure that he hadn't caused my get-off. What can I say? Though his loosing control of his bike led to my choosing to leave the road to try and stop safely, his actions were not the cause of me breaking the front wheel loose from the grass. Though the speed might have been less and thus less damage, a simple pulling off the road when on a Connie fully loaded with gas is nearly a sure bet of a near drop if not a full drop. They just aren't meant for off road use no mater how you cut it. In as few of words as needs to said about pointing fingers of blame, it was not his fault my bike is totaled, it was my drop and mine alone. Once I decided to pull off the road it was to save my bacon and help Todd once stopped, it just didn't turn out that way.
With the help of the big guy you see with his back to the camera and Mark, the bike was made as road worthy as possible. broken bits collected and the rest of the story from here was uneventful really. So that is the short of it though it is longer than I'd have thought it would have been looking at the length of what I have relayed to you here.
1979 KZ1000E1 SOLD!
1984 KZ550F2 SOLD!
2006 ZG1000A6F (Totaled)
2001 ZRX1200R (Sold)
2001 Sprint 955i ST (daily rider)
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