I'm sitting here in the waiting room about to start some physical therapy for an old injury that messes with my sleep still. I figured its probably a story worthy of steemit... so here it goes. Enjoy!
The Background
I've always been into riding dirt bikes... got my first bike when I was 9 I think. A Honda CR60 2 stroke motocross bike. The next few years I upgraded... a Yamaha YZ80, a Kawasaki KX80, and then finally a newer competitive Kawasaki KX80. I raced motocross, enduro, and hare scrambles and was sponsored by a local shop. Eventually broke a collarbone and jacked up a wrist in a race that ended my season, so out of boredom I played on my computer and the rest is history.
Fast-forward a decade or so. I've got a well paying job, an need a stress outlet. During my motocross hiatus 4 strokes had gone from slow heavy pigs to powerful competitive machines, even superior to the 2 strokes in their respective class. So I got a CRF250X (I ride mostly offroad and the push button start was worth the extra 20lbs). It was great for a while, but as I made more money as a young professional I needed something with a little more oomph.
The Bike
When I do things, I tend to really do things... "anything worth doing is worth overdoing" is my mantra. So when my riding partner upgraded to a CRF450R it was a natural progression for me to get something faster. Enter the Service Honda CR500LE (Limited Edition) serial #17 of 21 made. 500cc's of raw 2-stroke power shoehorned into a 2004 CR125 frame. Custom suspension, custom exhaust, custom graphics, and custom anodized billet parts galore!
(my own work)
Somewhere in the neighborhood of 60-70hp to the wheel. 204lbs. With my 145lbs of rider, it is violently fast. Any gear, on any terrain, at any RPM, and any speed, without touching the clutch and me riding the gas tank it effortlessly wheelies... truly an amazing bike to ride.
The Beating
I was riding at a large motocross and riding "resort" in Georgia. My family was all there for vacation over Thanksgiving 2006. My riding buddy was there with me. He was new to riding and was just discovering the thrill of sailing a bike high off a jump. He wasn't good enough to put himself in any real risk of danger, but good enough he decided to start giving me shit for staying off the motocross tracks.
I told my buddy "Look... for me to have fun on a mx track I have to go fast and really get airborne. If I keep doing that, I will eventually eat it and get hurt pretty good". A couple "don't be a p@#$y"'s here and "don't be scared"'s there and I found myself on the track again. I've been doing this long enough to know that when you wreck on a motocross track its often pretty bad. Oh well, I'm not trying to be competitive so I'll take it easy.
I get out there to a track thats maybe 5-10 miles through the woods trails to get to. I'd probably already put down 30 or 40 laps on this particular motocross track that day. The entrance to the track is right after the final right hand corner & whoop section, and right when you get onto the track there is a decent sized triple jump. Incase you aren't familiar I'll elaborate below.
A Triple Jump (A short aside)
In motocross a triple jump is a series of, you guessed it, three jumps. The fastest way to tackle the obstacle is to jump off the face of the first jump and land smoothly on the backside of the last jump. For your viewing pleasure I've animated this strategy below
Ideal Triple Jump... smooth as butter
(my own work)
Not enough balls, coming up short
If you can't muster the gonads to give it enough throttle you are punished accordingly. Its pretty unpleasant.
(my own work)
A little too much balls... up, up, and away!
If you get a little too generous with the throttle you are punished accordingly. Its also pretty unpleasant.
(my own work)
Anyway, back to the story...
What had happened wuz...
It was rainy the whole week and this Saturday was no different. The Georgia clay was as slick as "goose sh!t" as they say. No matter how delicate I was on the throttle of the 500 the ass end was all over the place. I simply could not get traction. I figured if I couldn't get traction to clear this triple at least I'd roost the hell out of my buddy for fun. I get on the track and go wide-open on the 500.
Ut oh... I still don't understand why, but somehow in that particular instant my bike hooked up like a dragster on asphalt on this wet clay track. The 500 accelerates rather rapidly... By the time I realized what had happened I was already coming up the face of the triple thinking to myself "Waaaayyyy to fast dude!". Not changing that now.
For those of you who don't know, when you are faced with imminent and grave danger time seems to go in slow motion. As I looked down and watched the jumps pass under me in succession I planned how I was going to deal with this predicament I'd found myself in. Basically, I can bail off the bike and take my chances on my own, or I can "slap down" the bike on the flat ground after the jumps letting the bike's suspension absorb as much of the impact as possible and accept I will probably cartwheel forward possibly being pile-driven by my own bike. I'm going with option B.
When I hit I get snatched off the back of the bike so violently it felt as though I was tethered to the ground behind me. As I was ripped off the back of the bike by the g-forces my hand could help but roll on the throttle. I hit the ground in a sitting position more or less, and watched my bike wheelie away from me before slowing to a few mph and falling on its side like nothing happened. I rolled once or twice and ended up on my stomach.
First rule of motocross, get off the track after a wreck lest you get landed on by the dude behind you. I go to do a pushup and get on my feet... and collapse right back down. Thats not good. I remember looking down and visually proving to myself both my left and right legs and feet move on command. By then my buddy and a friendly stranger help me on my feet and off the track.
I sat on the sidelines for a while. I remember saying "this is so weird... when I lean over at my waist I'm not in a lot of pain, but when I stand up it feels like someone kicked the wind out of my chest". So, thinking I'm not hurt that badly, after about 45 mins on the side of the track I decide to call it a day and head back to our campfire, and numb this up with beverage or three.
Back to Camp
There is 6-10 miles of woods trails between me and our cabin. I get to it with a nice leisurely pace back. So the big indicator you are hurt bad is when the pain doesn't abate over time but rather it increases. By the time I got back to camp it was pretty rough. I got off my bike and sat in a chair by the campfire and asked my mom for a beer. She will tell you my face was white and she knew I was hurt badly, so immediately went to get the paramedics who are always on site despite my assurances I was fine.
Paramedics take a look at me and say "Not gonna bullshit you man, have someone get your wallet or whatever you need... you're pretty busted up. You're gonna be in the hospital at least a week". Huh? I've had far more painful experiences. So as with any potential spine or head injury the first order of business is immobilizing the patient. Next, come the IV's. My little sister was kind enough to act as a my IV bag stand.
| Being duct taped to a board | The sister |
|---|---|
 |  |
| (my own work) | (my own work) |
I thought this was a bit of overkill so the whole ordeal seemed pretty funny to me at the time. I was laughing and told my buddy he better get a picture of this. If they were cutting my under armor off then at least I'm gonna get a laugh out of this. They load me up into the ambulance and off we go to Athens Regional Hospital. Hold on... we turn around after a hundred yards. Apparently some lady broke her leg and needed a ride to the hospital too. Busy day I guess.
(my own work)
SO now the pain is starting to come on full force. Paramedics call in for the Dr. to authorize 10cc's morphine. Every few minutes they ask if it still hurts. Hell yeah it does. 2 more cc's and a few minutes later "Still hurt?". Rinse and repeat till we get to the ER.
The ER
Now I debated not sharing this part... not because it embarrasses me or anything, but its probably better that it be a surprise if you ever end up in my shoes. Little did I know that when you go to the ER with a spine or head injury the first order of business is assessing if and how much nerve damage there is. This is done with a rather crude method.
Apparently when you damage the spine the first nerves to go are the sphincter muscles of the anal variety. I'm laying butt naked and my mom is in the corner of the room. Neurosurgeon walks in and without so much as a "hows the weather" goes knuckle deep and says "squeeze my finger". That was good news that I was still continent, albeit a bit awkward.
| MRI's are cool / Check out my guts | The two broken vertebrae |
|---|---|
 |  |
| (my own work) | (my own work) |
The next 24hrs was a opioid blur, but I know there was an MRI and some x-rays. The next morning, may have been 2 days later its hard to remember... at any rate it was when I came to my senses is when the the real pain set in. They made me get out of bed and walk with a walker around my room on like, day 3, the bastards...
| My morning face | The back bruise from the break |
|---|---|
| Yeah I wasn't a happy camper that morning | Thats the full width of my lower back, with some bonus bed sheet lines. |
 |  |
So a week later my gf-at-the-time drove me home... 6 hours... just enough for percocet to wear off and because I was crossing state lines they didn't send me home with anything but an RX. The longest walk of my life was, with a gf and roommate on either arm for support, up the driveway, down my front hall, and to my couch. It probably took 45 mins. I was worried I was gonna break teeth I was biting down so hard.
I went to my local neurosurgeon and he told me if he'd just looked at the images he'd have expected me to be unable to walk and that I was pretty lucky to not have paralysis. I have one area of the small of my back that the skin has no sensation but thats about it... Maybe I'll get that tramp stamp I always wanted. I spent about 9 months in a pubic bone to collar bone torso brace unless I was horizontal in bed. It was a rough year. It was probably 3 months before I could lift a gallon of milk.
Happy Days are Here Again!
A few years down the road and I'm riding again. My little sister has used her time to become a very good rider. She was planning on being one of the first women in freestyle mx... the X Game stuff. I wasn't there for this trip, but she ended up "casing it" on an 80foot freestyle ramp jump.
(my own work)
Broke lots of bones. Got a helicopter flight for a bad concussion. When she got home and everyone left the room I asked her "So... you get the finger?" . She replied with a sad sounding "Yeah :-(". "Welcome to my club" I told her lol.
