Whatās the story behind the wreck?
Was being dumb out in the country. My brain and right hand (throttle) weren't in communication with each other. Two friends and I were out for a Sunday ride when the one said he needed to get back since he had to work. We were out in Kingston, and this was news to us. So we were riding back, but not too fast. He had thought that we could run 72 to 23 and catch 90, then open the bikes up (wrong).
So once we got on to 23 (north) I opened it up to about 80, then they went past me about 90-100. Okay, we're playing this game. I never left 6th gear, but rolled on the throttle to about 110-120 and passed them. Then they passed me about 130-140. Figured it was time to end the game and I pinned it. Ran it up to Vmax and held it there. Came up to Melms Rd and some old bitch in a red Taurus rolled her stop sign while crossing 23. I tried to scrub off as much speed as I could. But being early November, cloudy, and about 40Ā° there wasn't a whole lot for me to work with.
I knew she wasn't looking at traffic since she rolled the sign, so going in front of her was a bad idea. Slamming into the side of her was a worse idea. So I elected to go behind her. Keep in mind, I had about 2-3 seconds to make this decision, while already on the brakes. Just as I apexed behind her, I'm pretty sure my right boot scraped her bumper. By that time I had gotten some heat into the front tire and brakes, and the rear started to come up off of the ground. Realizing this I eased off the front brakes, but it was too late. The rear had come down and basically reversed tank-slapped me. Instead of the front wheel slapping back and forth, it stayed planted, and the whole rest of the bike started to pendulum. When I ran out of steering lock the back tire caught and high-sided me. I went sailing, ass over elbows. Hit the shoulder, bounced, did a complete flip in mid air, then hit again.
Fortunately for me, since it was November, the grass in the culvert was a few feet tall, and really cushioned my impact. Not a scratch on me. Came to rest about 3' from a drainpipe that probably would have sliced me in half.
Some notes.... Full race gear on (helmet, gloves, jacket, pants, boots), jacket had a Level 2 CE back protector built in. Was an AGV X-Vent helmet (DOT and SNELL 95 approved), boots were my Sidi Vertigo Corsa's (still have them). I walked to the ambulance. They wouldn't let me take my jacket off. They insisted on cutting it. I protested, a LOT since, it was a $400 jacket with built in armor. I lost. It took them the entire ride from the impact site to Kishwaukee hospital to cut the jacket off. It was some tough leather.
Spent a week in Kishwaukee, never even had an IV in me, and was walking up and down the halls flirting with the nurses. They transferred me to Loyola instead of CDH (10 minutes from my house) because I was considered a "triple extremity trauma" patient. Fuck-sake, I was walking around the hospital! So spent a few days there while they determined what all I messed up.
Went back two weeks later to get the first round of surgery. Spent 2-3 months sedentary since both my knees and right ankle were FUBAR (amongst other damage). Then spent another 2-3 months learning to walk again. Early May 2007 rolls around and I'm staring at my cruiser in the garage thinking it sure would be nice to ride again. De-winterized it, fired it up, hopped on and rode the bike shop to get a new helmet. Was like I had ridden it the day before. Rode the cruiser the rest of the season, then early 2008 I got my ZX-6R, which once it was broken in only saw track days for the first five years or so. Racked up a good 30 or 40 days on that bike, many of which were at Road America and Autobahn.
Edit: Oh, the real kick in the nads? The bitch didn't even stop, she just kept on going. Completely oblivious to the three bikes she almost ran over. So all of this went on my [crappy] insurance.
