It Was a Nice Weekend Until…

Warning: This post has very little tandem or randonneuring content! Sometimes, though, life trumps cycling. Such was the case this weekend.

It was supposed to be a nice relaxing weekend for Barbara and me. No brevets on our schedule. Catch up on some yard work (at least enough to keep the township health inspectors away for a few more weeks,) relax a bit and let the body and mind recharge a bit before heading up to Quakertown for the PA 400k next weekend. I went out early Saturday to go chase a little white dimpled ball around some local parkland while Barb went out for a spin on her C’dale over our standard 50 mile loop. Later, in the afternoon, I did battle with the lawn while Barbara took her son Dale out to shop for some new summer clothes. Steak on the grill for dinner, a Stoudt's Kolsch or two and all was good in suburbia…

Sunday started early for us. We crawled out of bed at 5:45am and hopped in the car to drive 40 minutes to Peddlers’ Village in Lahaska, PA for breakfast. But, believe me my friends, it wasn’t just the thought of fresh Pennsylvania scrapple that lured us out of bed so early on a Sunday; we had a plan in mind. We were off to meet former fleche teammates Paul Shapiro, Todd Kerekes, and Jud Hand who, along with newcomers Shane Beake and Roy Yates were en route at the PA Fleche with their 2010 fleche squad the “Cyclepaths.” We’d planned to meet them for breakfast at their 22 hour controle at Sweet Lorraine’s restaurant in Lahaska around 7am just for fun, and to perhaps give their morale a bit of a lift for the final push to the finish in Quakertown. Our mission took on a slightly more tangible purpose when Paul called me from his cell phone at 6am to ask me to please bring along a spare front wheel – he’d hit a nasty hole hidden in a puddle early that morning and dented his rim badly. Paul wasn’t at all sure the wheel would carry him safely to the finish. So, I ran to the garage, grabbed a spare wheel and Barb and I made it to Lahaska right on time, where we ordered coffee and sat in wait of our pals.

We didn’t have to wait long before our mates rolled up to the restaurant looking a bit tired and cold, and absolutely soaking wet. It had been a rather rough night on the road: The had together suffered 8(!) flat tires over the course of the ride and endured a steady cold rain through much of the night. They were all definitely ready for some hot coffee and a bite to eat before tackling the 20 miles remaining to the finish. We enjoyed a delicious breakfast together (the scrapple was tasty!) The guys warmed up and dried out a bit while color and life gradually returned to their weary faces before they had to hit the road again. Barb and I bid them farewell and safe passage to the hostel then jumped in the car to drive back home again feeling happy to have helped out a little. (Thanks for picking up our tab at breakfast guys! I’m not sure why you felt the need to do that, but thanks.) We pointed the car south toward Trenton and decided that while we were out we’d go do our weekly grocery shopping – take advantage of our early start and beat the crowd at Shop-Rite.

This is where things take a sudden, drastic turn for the worse. We made it safely all the way back to Hamilton where we waited at the traffic light to cross route 130 into the Marketplace Shopping Center talking about all we’d be able to accomplish before noon. The light turned green, we pulled away and…



Next thing we know a loud crash, the car is spinning around and we come to rest with a thud against a low grassy median.

I never saw it coming.

Barbara, sitting on the passenger side, did see the little silver car speeding toward us just in time to lean in toward me a bit. She didn’t have time to get a word out of her mouth. In the last instant a could see her flinch from the corner of my eye.

A young guy driving a Dodge Neon north on Route 130 had tried to beat the traffic light. He didn’t make it. Not even remotely close. He tried too late to hit the brakes, but on the wet roads it was useless and he T-boned us directly on the center of the passenger side of the Altima at about 55mph. We both spun and he hit at least one other car crossing the highway before coming to rest.

I was completely stunned, but remarkably unhurt. Barbara had taken the brunt of the impact and was clearly in shock and hurting. We were both terrified. I knew she had taken a vicious hit and suspected she must have suffered serious injuries – perhaps to her arm or shoulder, her ribs or hip. Or maybe all the above. She never lost consciousness, though and there seemed to be no blood or obvious physical deformity. Barb complained of chest and knee pain; she was trembling with fear and adrenaline as the horn of the Dodge blared and people began to gather around. I have enough medical knowledge to realize that her chest pain could mean a punctured lung or worse. I didn’t like the pale color of her fingers. All we could do was comfort each other and wait for EMS to arrive.

The ambulance did arrive pretty quickly. Assessed Barb and got a cervical collar on her. Jaws of Life to pry open the crushed door. Backboard and a short ride to Hamilton Hospital.


********************************************************************************


Fast forward three hours or so and Barb and I were walking out of the emergency room together. Barb with a souvenir plastic bracelet and a couple prescriptions for pain. X-rays and a CT scan of the neck had come back normal and although she was sore, Barbara was all in one piece. The worst injury she appeared to have was a very small abrasion on her right collarbone caused by the seatbelt. Not so much as a bruise anywhere. I’m still not sure how it’s possible – we had really dodged a bullet (no pun intended.) By the Grace of God, good luck, and a well-constructed car we had both managed to survive a very nasty accident with barely a scratch. If we'd been hit at that speed by a bigger, heavier vehicle this story could have had a very different ending.

The moral of this story? Be careful out there folks, both on the bicycle and in your car. The roads can be a dangerous place and the consequences of an accident can be dire, even life changing. I've been employed by UPS as a professional driver for nearly 22 years now, and I've always considered myself to be a pretty safe, conservative driver but I believe I'm going to use even more care out there on the streets from this point forward.

And take the time to enjoy life. Go ride your bike if that's what you like to do - the lawn can always wait. Apologies if I'm beginning to sound a little mushy, but I think this weekend I just grew a little more appreciative of everything I have - especially my lovely and talented stoker.

Today (Monday) Barbara is still a little stiff and sore, but she’s already talking about riding the PA 400k on Saturday…