Joined
·
7,294 Posts
This incident is reported to assist others. Short version:
1. Everything ended good.
2. around Sept. 22 I hit a rock hidden in a shadow.
3. Right before hitting it I saw it and thought 'nice ramp' as it was perfectly placed like a small ramp perhaps weighing around 15 pounds or so.
4. That was the last thought I remembered.
5. When I came to the bike was waiting for command and slightly wandering in a straight line. I had a rising cliff on the left and a drop off ravine on the right.
6. The bike was chopped off.
7. I began to fade back out and this thought occurred, 'I'm going to have to drop the bike and install the '11 plastic.'
8. That thought gave be a shot to stay awake.
9. CRITICAL. Now I could NOT catch a breath; struggled for a bit; bike waiting for a command. No traffic. (one lane, two way road, not much traffic, but some bicycle distance guys)
10. Finally got lungs to work and felt better.
11. Thought that the front rim was bent so stopped; all good. No signs of any plastic probs or nothing.
12. proceeded home safely.
Details:
1. My upper body hurt all over. No idea what happened. I could NOT touch the tank with chest as pain.
2. I did ride next day but well off pace.
3. I was able to do some pushups and situps, normal stuff, for a few days but had to stop.
4. Stopped riding for about five weeks to recover.
5. NO BRUISING at all.
6. My thinking was the tank hit me so hard that body couldn't handle it.
7. The front brake reservoir bracket was bent AWAY from the rider. No leaks.
8. A few weeks later I noticed a tiny DENT in the tank near the rider.
9. I began a jogging program when I could not ride.
10. I am now jogging 10 laps around one acre and doing bunch of high intensity pushups and situps and ridng weather permitting.
Summary.
My conclusion is that the tank hit me so hard on the rock 'jump' that it knocked me out for a few seconds collapsing a lung and bruised ribs, sternum, tiny muscles and whatever. Biggest rock ever hit. Past couple weeks have been most excellent pace rides.
All good. Bike shrugged everything off.
1. Everything ended good.
2. around Sept. 22 I hit a rock hidden in a shadow.
3. Right before hitting it I saw it and thought 'nice ramp' as it was perfectly placed like a small ramp perhaps weighing around 15 pounds or so.
4. That was the last thought I remembered.
5. When I came to the bike was waiting for command and slightly wandering in a straight line. I had a rising cliff on the left and a drop off ravine on the right.
6. The bike was chopped off.
7. I began to fade back out and this thought occurred, 'I'm going to have to drop the bike and install the '11 plastic.'
8. That thought gave be a shot to stay awake.
9. CRITICAL. Now I could NOT catch a breath; struggled for a bit; bike waiting for a command. No traffic. (one lane, two way road, not much traffic, but some bicycle distance guys)
10. Finally got lungs to work and felt better.
11. Thought that the front rim was bent so stopped; all good. No signs of any plastic probs or nothing.
12. proceeded home safely.
Details:
1. My upper body hurt all over. No idea what happened. I could NOT touch the tank with chest as pain.
2. I did ride next day but well off pace.
3. I was able to do some pushups and situps, normal stuff, for a few days but had to stop.
4. Stopped riding for about five weeks to recover.
5. NO BRUISING at all.
6. My thinking was the tank hit me so hard that body couldn't handle it.
7. The front brake reservoir bracket was bent AWAY from the rider. No leaks.
8. A few weeks later I noticed a tiny DENT in the tank near the rider.
9. I began a jogging program when I could not ride.
10. I am now jogging 10 laps around one acre and doing bunch of high intensity pushups and situps and ridng weather permitting.
Summary.
My conclusion is that the tank hit me so hard on the rock 'jump' that it knocked me out for a few seconds collapsing a lung and bruised ribs, sternum, tiny muscles and whatever. Biggest rock ever hit. Past couple weeks have been most excellent pace rides.
All good. Bike shrugged everything off.
