It started off glorious.
My first trip cycling up Jamestown of 2022. Low 40s, little to no wind, sunny, and blue skies.
Over the previous few days about a foot and a half of snow had fallen. The creek coming down the canyon along the road was half frozen, but running. Still snow in the trees—it was just beautiful.
The road was pretty clear though. A few gritty spots where sand and gravel had been spread, but for the most part plowed and dry. Even the bike lanes.
For those of you who don’t know it, Jamestown is an iconic climb going from Boulder to the historic Colorado mining town in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. About eight miles from town then up eight more miles on Left Hand Canyon Road. It’s not steep, more of a tempo ride, around 1,800 vertical feet total.
As I climbed and enjoyed the scenery I was noting the conditions on the other side of the road thinking ahead to my descent. Pretty much the same, sand/gravel around some of the hairpin turns, and wet where the snow was melting and running down or across the road.
There were 3 or 4 other cyclists coming down as I was going up.
After a quick stop at the top, I started my descent.
I noticed immediately it was a lot colder in the shaded areas, but was only concerned with how that was impacting my hands as I’d only worn my mid-weight gloves. But, no big deal.
What was a big deal was that as the sun was setting (it was about 3.30) the road conditions were changing beneath me but I had no idea...
I made my way down, negotiating turn after turn through a couple of wet spots with no issue. But as I took a sharp left about 3 miles in, I hit ice. Black ice.
Black ice masquerades as just more wet road, especially in the shade.
Turns out going downhill at 30 mph on a bike with skinny rubber tires doesn’t mix well with black ice.
At all.
My front wheel flew out beneath me before I could react. Last thing I remember was thinking “oh no”.
Based on the condition of my helmet, I’m pretty sure my head broke my fall.
Darkness.
The next thing I remember is Florence Nightingale putting me in a Jeep. I refer to her as that because I don’t remember her name. And so far have not been able to find her.
She had pulled up to me probably lying unconscious in the road. And I remember her telling me she was an actual nurse. So, get it?
What a miracle.
Apparently she called an ambulance, got me and my bike loaded in her Jeep, and was calmly asking me questions, while tending to me and briefing me on my condition.
The only thing I could manage to do was bleed on her cute little white dogs, who immediately befriended me.
As we drove I continued bleeding all over her console and was trying to look at myself in the vanity mirror, which she kept shutting.
I’m like “is it that bad?”
She flagged down the oncoming ambulance while saying “that was fast”.
I have no idea how she got me in her Jeep. Apparently I had fallen when she tried to help me up the first time, and she quickly relayed that info to the EMTs so they came with a stretcher.
If the blood and road rash wasn’t enough, the EMTs further desecrated my Rapha gear by neatly excising it from my body. One of them must have been a cyclist because she kept apologizing as she bifurcated each layer—my new winter bibs, thermal layer, jacket, jersey...
They started taking inventory of my injuries. Lacerations on nose, chin, and cheeks. Bump on head. Huge three-inch high hematoma below my right elbow. Road rash on left thigh and shoulder. Small hematoma on my right knee. Scratches on the back of my hands and elbows. It is kind of funny how the scars in the gear line up with the real injuries on my body. I'm convinced Rapha protected me from more grievous surface harm.
Next the EMTs started asking questions like what month, day, stuff like that. I’ve had concussions before so I knew not to guess. And I clearly didn’t know. Finally they asked who was President, and I got that one.
So there was hope, but also major concern.
I tried orienting myself out the back window of the ambulance to see if I recognized anything. I was kind of self-diagnosing how bad I was too. It was all very out of body.
The entire ride I was trying to call my wife to let her know what was going on.
She tracks me when I’m out riding, knows when I should be home, and I was worried she would see my location as a hospital before I could tell her what happened.
The EMTs were very accommodating.
I successfully communicated the message in time so she and my daughter flew into action to meet me in the emergency room.
When we pulled up to the hospital, I was incapable of moving myself at all and I couldn’t believe how easily they were transferring me from ambulance to stretcher to bed. Then on to CAT scans and x-rays.
It was probably 30 minutes after all of that before I saw a doctor. She told us that the CAT scans of my head revealed no bleeding, and there were no breaks in my arms or legs. I had broken my 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th ribs, but none of them were threatening organs. So while the pain was intense, even breathing hurt, there was no dramatic downside.
My wife, Donna, and daughter, Spencer, were relieved, but I knew something else was wrong. The doctor then said “let’s get you up and walk around.”
In my head I was like “no way.” But they helped me up for the first time in about three hours and I screamed and collapsed.
Yes, there was something else wrong. I couldn’t put any weight on my left leg. So back to CAT scan room.
Turns out I had cracked by acetabulum socket. Yeah, me neither,. It’s right above the head of your femur bone where it connects to your hip,
“We may have to keep you overnight.”
So look, by this time I knew I had already missed half of the College Football National Championship game and, as a huge Georgia fan, that was unacceptable.
So the doctor hesitantly agreed that I could try crutches. I immediately said yes without trying them and they wheeled me out to the car.
Upon getting home and trying them out I knew why she had been hesitant. Being one-legged is one thing, but having four broken ribs and trying to support yourself on crutches is another.
The trip into our house was longer and more excruciating than any marathon I’ve run.
Fortunately I had help.
Between Donna, Spencer, and her boyfriend, Henry I was able to scoot backwards up the stairs, where I would spend the next 9 days, then got lifted to my feet and was in front of the game to watch the 4th quarter.
Where the Dawgs rallied and won.
Two weeks later my face has practically healed, and I'm thinking about how soon I can get back on my indoor trainer. I realize how fortunate I am. It could have been worse. I know this journey I've been on over the past 2 years has allowed for a fast physical recovery while the mental work and meditation have given me the patience to work my way back to my bike. I'm still signed up for the Moab Skinny Tire event in March.
Thanks for the support and concern from the many of you who have reached out over the past couple of weeks. Special thank you to my Rapha Cycling Club (RCC) friends for the "wellness package", yes cupcakes are medicine, and with whom I can't wait to hit the road—maybe not quite so literally—again soon. I'll keep posting recovery updates on my progress to get back there. Subscribe to stay up-to-date.
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