When we went skiing, there invariably existed on every run a point at which the slope immediately below was not visible. OK, not on every run - but at least on the fun ones. Upon reaching this point, the family split into two separate camps. There were those among us who carefully skied up to the edge of the precipice, peered over, and planned the most efficient (read safest) route to the next potential hazard. Conversely, there were those whose approach was to figure all that stuff out whilst airborne after going over the precipice. Susan and Keith subscribed to the former philosophy, Kelsy and I to the later.
What has this to do with reactions to The Thin Blue Ride, you ask? This...
As I’ve discussed the ride with friends, family, people from work, and sometimes with people I know only peripherally but who have heard of the ride; reactions seem to split along the same two lines as did the family on those long ago ski trips. The two camps will be reviewed briefly below. For the purpose of clarity, we shall refer to them as the “What if...” and the, “We’ll figure it out...” camps and illustrate their respective views of The Thin Blue Ride with questions typical of each camp. My response follows each question. Without further ado:
WHAT IF
Who will you call if you need help? Answer: It depends on what we need help doing.
How will I know (fill in the blank) you’re OK, where you are, if you’re alive, etc. Answer: If the blog sports no new entries for a week or two at any point following the start of the ride, assume the worst and make a donation to the RCPD Scholarship Fund on my behalf. If you’re family, follow my Cousin Deb Neiermeier on Facebook - she has assumed the mantle of “Official family news hound.”
Is your will current? Along with it’s variant: Where do you keep your will so we can find it “should the need arise”? (Only two people are really interested in this question - you do the math.). Answer: It will be by the time we leave. And it’s variant: Susan and I plan on having a family meeting before departure to hand over the keys to the kingdom.
What will you do if the RV breaks down? Answer: Fix it, just like when anyone’s car breaks down. I’m pretty sure mechanics have a relatively expansive natural habitat.
WE’LL FIGURE IT OUT
What will be the best part of the trip? Answer: Spending time with Susan. I think I’ve mentioned previously that she’s my best friend, and it’s true. We genuinely like hanging out together. God bless the woman, I don’t know what’s wrong with her - but to date it’s been to my advantage. Disclaimer: I’ve presumed to answer all other questions on behalf of both Susan and I. For her answer to this one, you’ll just have to ask when you see her. For my part, I’m just happy she is possessed of the aforementioned patience of Job. Interestingly, this seems to be a characteristic typical of many of my friends. Curious that they all seem to have this in common... What are the odds?
AND, “HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM.”
This was as far as I’d gotten thinking about this post whence came September 18 and a conspiracy by the forces of “What If” the rough equivalent of which haven’t manifested since the Kennedy assassination. Specifically, I’d just glimpsed a man on a nearby grassy knoll and was riding merrily along at probably 20 mph, sadly on my favorite bike. I was on a route I’d ridden hundreds of times (note the sense of foreboding - pay attention to that) when my bike and a 2005 Dodge mini-van entered into a disagreement on principle. My bike believed it had the right-of-way over the mini-van, which entered the road from a private drive and turned directly into the bike’s path.
Turns out my bike was right on principle. The Trooper who worked the crash agreed whole heartedly. The crash investigation also revealed that both the Trooper and my bike had missed that day in physics class when mass and velocity were discussed. This doesn’t surprise me on the part of the Trooper, but I’d come to expect more from my bike. It also turns out that the disagreement was decided not on principle, but on physics. Ah... would that my bike had consulted me on this matter before arriving in the same space and at the same time as the mini-van. But such was not to be. This particular bike has always been a dissolute sort possessed of a mind of its own.
This rather rude introduction to physics on the part of the mini-van (A misnomer, by the way - it seemed plenty big to me) resulted in the aforementioned, if benighted, bike being knocked sideways out from under me. This occasioned another rather rude introduction - this time between the pavement, playing its role as the immovable object, and my head/right shoulder - playing their role as the irresistible force. The immovable object won and I shortly found myself sliding down the pavement on my head (helmet) and right shoulder. I quite distinctly recall thinking, “This can’t possibly be good” before the pain held sway, obscuring further intelligent thought for a bit.
I won’t go into a great amount of detail concerning either the crash or post crash issues due to (what else) possible legal ramifications surrounding the matter. Don’t get me wrong, some of my best friends are lawyers. Well, OK - I know some lawyers who seem friendly. Sigh - OK - I know one lawyer who claims he once had a friend - until they had a falling out... he sued the guy. Lawyers and their concerns aside, I feel comfortable that the following assertion will be universally understood by riders and non-riders alike: road rash and concussions suck. I will however, provide a few pics of the aftermath. Spolier alert - depending on your "gross" tolerance, the last pic may not be for faint of heart. As road rash goes, I've seen worse, but those with weaker constitutions may not be so discriminating in their assessment...
Always - ALWAYS wear a helmet. This one is compressed between 1/4 to 1/2 inch in places and the exterior plastic shell is ground away in spots.
This pic shows some (not all) of the fractures to the foam that comprises the inner shell of the helmet. The section right by the strap was just above my right temple at the time and was nearly separated from the helmet.
I tell Susan that I now have a ready made excuse for nearly everything from being forgetful to erratic behavior.
One word, "Ouch." Three days post collision. The arm was as bad or worse but as graphics go, this will suffice.
