El Accidente

A word about accidents and God's Grace.

March 13, 2010, my friend Andrew and I took of for South Texas on our motorcycles. I was on Grace, my Ninja 250, and he was on his Grandmother's Harley. Yes, I said Grandmother's Harley. His whole family rides. It was Spring Break and our goal was to ride and camp all the way back up to Longview.

We headed out early Sunday morning and began our trek to Leakey, Texas; home of the three sisters or The twisted sisters. The sisters consist of three ranch roads that are supposed to be some of the best riding in Texas. Each road winds and twists their way throughout the Texas Hill country. Beautiful vistas go on forever and the idyllic scenery has one longing to never leave.

Once we arrived in Leakey we stayed at the DRose Inn. An awesome old school motel with cabins. Deb is the owner and the Inn only caters to two wheeled riders. Andew and I had booked a small cabin and it was a fantastic place to launch our epic journey back home. After the long ride down I was exhausted and my 42 year old body was feeling every ache, pain, and vibration of the trip. We ate dinner and crashed hard.

Morning came, with cooler weather and a brisk semi-gusting breeze that swirled leaves in a seasonal spring dance. I was tired and achy but eager for the road. We packed our gear, ate breakfast, donned our armor, gassed up and hit the road. The itinerary was to head west on Ranch Road 337 (one of the sisters) cut up north on 336, and veer back towards Fredricksburg. We stopped at a local tourist trap, The Frio Canyon Motorcycle Stop. A hang out place for riders touring the sisters. Andrew and I looked around the store, bought a map, and got back on the road.

The whole morning for me is fuzzy. I remember the ride west from our last stop was very surreal. Everything felt dreamy as the hill country rolled past my vision. The wind was gusty and pushed the bike around. A group of three riders blew past me doing about ninety. I was good boy and sticking to 55 or 60 mph. I was unfamiliar with where I was and not wanting to ride very aggressively. However, it wasn't very much help. We went into a series of turns, as far as I know I made the right curve but in the left one the ninja went out from under me. She went into a guard rail post and I went into the other one. I must have flipped over the top because Andrew said I was crawling out from under it when he pulled up.

Only a few things stand out in my memory after the crash. I felt like something was stabbing me in my left shoulder. I thought I was lying on top of a broken rear view mirror. The paramedics were all women which was strange to me at the time. I remember them pulling off my wedding ring before loading me on the lifelight chopper and I remember seeing my contact lense on the front of my jacket, wierdness.

If it hadn't been for my friend I wouldn't be alive today. Andrew had to break the visor off of my helmet and pull it up a bit so I could breath. He was freaked out but stayed calm. He provided what ever aid to me he could and called for an ambulance. He snapped pictures while waiting for the EMTs to show up. I think it was to keep himself from freaking out. He could tell I had a head injury because I was acting like ten second Tom. I would ask him, "what are we doing?" he would say, "oh, we're just taking a break." my reply was, "is my bike ok?" Ten seconds later i would ask again, "what are we doing?" It is funny now, but  then? Not so much.

The EMTs stuck a neck brace on me and strapped me to a backboard. I was thrown in the ambulance and driven to the airport. A helicopter landed and whisked me off to University Hospital in San Antonio.

Andrew called my wife who was in Louisiana. He told her I was in an accident, he thought my shoulder was broken but I was ok. Lisa heard the chopper coming in and asked "uhm, Andrew, is that lifelight? "Yes Miss Lisa." he replied. 

Thanks to God I was still alive. However, our lives had been turned upside down in minutes.

Next week, Recovery.

Leaving Anatomy

I have to share my "man" trip with you. 

Once upon a time, before school, I used to find ways to go off by myself for a day or so. Primarily, I would go off hiking, or check out some aspect of the area we were living's historical flavor. (ie, stuff that causes my wife's eyes to roll up in her head and fall asleep.) Since the new motorcycle entered my life, I have been earnestly seeking a chance to get away on some windy, twisty, roads and have me time. 

A member of our recovery group recently had to move to South Texas to find work. We had been trying to find a way to get together to work on his fifth step. The phone and Skype, didn't seem proper so bingo! an idea was formed in the recesses of my brain. I would take the scooter and meet him half way, awesome! However, my wife had other plans. 

My stepdaughter's fiance' needed help moving some things from Dallas to Houston. My wife, the lovely Lisa, suggested I take the bike to Dallas, load it on the moving truck, drive to Houston, meet my friend there for his step work, spend the night at my parents, and then take the long, scenic, way home. She is so amazing! So we plan it out. Due to work and school schedules I had to ride down early, like o-dark thirty from Longview to Arlington Sunday morning, before school started back on Tuesday. Plans are made, the fiance's dad rents the truck, and the newly betrothed gets a bus ticket to Dallas. 


Mother nature however, had other plans. A wicked rain along with snow was rolling in that Sunday morning. Like a retired farmer playing dominoes with the boys at the local feed store my tv had stayed on the weather channel full time. You tend to do that when you ride. I changed my plans and decided to leave late Saturday night after work to beat the storm.

I got off work about ten thirty, gassed up, and headed home to load my gear. I finally rolled off campus at 12:30. Notice how my handy dandy backpack is packed and strapped to the rear of the Ninja, it made for a terrific back rest.

Of course it was going to be cold, the forecast called for the high thirties and then dropping below freezing in Dallas. Houston would be in the forties, and then dropping to the mid thirties Monday, and of course as I drove north to go home Monday it would continue to drop back to freezing. I had spent the last few months gathering gear and preparing how I would survive a cold ride. Being "student poor" I would be relying on layers to keep myself warm. 

From the ground up, I had three pairs of heavy socks, boots, scooter shorts, long-johns, a pair of warm ups, jeans, and my windbreaker britches. From the waist up, a sport-dry undershirt, thermal pull-over, my thick nike sport shirt, a short sleeved t shirt, a zip up turtle neck pullover, my armored Joe Rocket ballistic jacket, and my leather jacket over that. Who know that eighties retread leather jacket would be of use again? From the neck up my balaclava head covering, a scarf around my neck and up to my nose, my warm beanie, and my helmet. 


As I hit highway 80 headed West towards Dallas I realized something strange. I had the whole road to myself. Except for the occasional car coming from the opposite direction, no one passed me, and no one was in front of me. It was incredible. My only concern was an animal running into my path. I rolled into Mineola and it was a ghost town.

Finally, about four am I rolled into Dallas and spent what was left of the night at a family friends house. I  had hardly closed my eyes when I awoke to the sound of rain banging on the roof and the sound of my alarm going off at 7:30 am. Quickly and quietly I got dressed, threw on all my gear and stepped outside. Great, my first ride on a big city freeway system and it was pouring down rain.

It took me an an hour and a half to get across town, I was soaked to to the bone, my clothes were drenched down to my socks. I was craving the heater of the Uhaul. Finally, wet and bedraggled, I met Ralph, the fiance', loaded the bike on the truck, and we were off to Houston.

Long story short, we made it into Houston and unloaded the truck. I met up with my friend and he bought me dinner at an awesome Mandarin Chinese place. We went to Starbucks and processed his fifth step.  

The best part of that day was riding the bike north on highway 59 through downtown Houston and out to my folks house in Humble. I grew up driving all through the city, and to do it on the bike was awesome. It was incredible. Its hard to describe unless you've experienced it. There was a sense of freedom while blasting by the George R Brown Convention Center, Minute Maid park, and zipping up Atascocita Road to my folks house. Finally, I arrived  gave big hugs, inspected the bike, washed my soaking clothes and went to bed.

I had a nice, but short visit with my folks, and took a great picture of me and my dad before I left Monday morning.

Got some gas at the local Chevron and took off home the long way around.











It was cold and grey outside as I headed north. I had chosen a route that took me inside two national forests, the Sam Houston, and the Crockett. I hit Cleveland, snuck around to Cold Springs, and up to Trinity, East to Crockett, Alto, Henderson, and finally home to Longview. It got colder and colder the further north I went. There were some great empty logging roads along the way. 


The temp stayed about 38 degrees until I crossed the Trinity River. It was here my arse was frozen off and left on the bridge. Once I left the shore and was on the bridge proper the temp dropped to about 25. Every bit of warmth on my body and captured by my layers was sucked into the atmosphere. I have never been colder. It was compounded by my mistake of not stopping for a break in Trinity. I pushed on through 32 more miles to Crockett. I was ten miles short of hypothermia when I pulled into a Pizza Hut for lunch and a warm up. I added two more layers to my gear and now I was looking like Ralphie's brother from a Christmas Story.

I turned onto Hwy 21 and pulled off at my only touristy stop. The historic marker of the Caddo Indian mounds just outside of Alto. I knew I would regret it if I did not stop and get a pic.

My final stop before home was Lovelady, a town just East of Henderson. It was a thirty minute layover where I drank some coffee and tried to coax some warmth back into my body. I was bitter cold and had had enough of the weather. I wanted to be home and in my bed. On the final push through Henderson it started sleeting and I had missed tucking my scarf into my jacket collar so I had a draft blowing into my neck and shoulder. I didn't care I just wanted to be home and have my arse back. 

Finally I rolled back onto campus. An amazing journey completed. It was miserable by all accounts but awesome at the same time. I had never been so cold or so happy in my life.

Larry