*** This is the Audioblog "Walk It or Lock It" (the first 'song' on my player) explaining the crash photos I just posted***
So I thought I'd tell you guys a story that's kind of embarrassing to admit, but very relevant.
Last summer, when I was out drinking with my cousin, I insisted that we ride our bikes back to his place to crash, even though I was clearly too wasted to ride. While hurtling down a hill at a gazillion miles an hour, I started to get speed wobbles from side to side. Now, a sober Sunny would have put on the brakes and slowed down enough to get the bike under control. However, drunk Sunny forgot she even had brakes on her bike, and as the wobbles got deeper from side to side, I got further and further out of control until finally my fork jacknifed and I flew over the handlebars.
I sailed through the warm night air, suddenly realizing the consequences of drunk-riding to Islington and the 401 from Jane and Bloor. Instinctively I thought to try and land like a plane – as horizontal as possible with my nose in the air – and pray for a miracle. Lips rolled over my teeth and tensed like a mouth guard, elbows tucked by my waist, palms up in fists by my collarbone, my chin and nose as high in the sky as they could be, I landed. WHAM! My cousin said I bounced. My chin hit the ground and was forced into my chest, smacking my face flat into the pavement, and my nose exploded in a storm of blood. A car stopped and gave us some paper towel, and I howled like a schoolgirl who fell off the jungle gym.
We threw our bikes in the back of a cab, and the whole way I bawled and yelled and my cousin tried to comfort me. We stopped at a gas station by his house and he made me drink a litre of milk before the final walk of shame. The rest of the night my cousin spent cleaning me up and trying to reassure me and I tried to sleep but was haunted by the pain pulsing from my face.
The next morning, I got up, grabbed my bike and got out the house before my uncle could witness the evidence of my drunken stupidity. My front wheel tacoed, I threw the bike over my shoulder and decided to walk to the bus stop. I got to the end of my cousin's street when my phone rang.
My uncle, amused, said, “Sunny, what are you doing?”
“I'm sneaking out of the house before you can see me.”
Uncle Jim chuckled and said, “Just let me drive you home, okay?” So I did.
I was surprised, my uncle didn't freak out at me in the car. He just let me talk. In his calm and gentle way, he said, “Look, what good would it do if I were to yell at you? I'm pretty sure you know what you did wrong. And I'm pretty sure that you won't be doing it again.” And that was that, save for the photos we took for Facebook as he dropped me off. I will now forever be his 'Ukranian cosmonaut'.
I had a massive purple bruise on my chin where I'd caught the ground, and one on my knee, my nose was spread out across my face, I had puffy eyes, and road rash on my cheekbone, shoulder, the backs of my hands, elbows and my hip. I went to the doctor and a free dental clinic a few weeks later, just to make sure I didn't mess anything up too badly. Turns out I'd broken my nose in two places, cracked the shit out of one of my front teeth, while the other was pushed back enough to close the gap that was there between them. I was in serious pain and couldn't eat solid food or close my jaw for about two months. I was lucky. My nose healed straight without a doctor's help, and I'll probably need new teeth down the road, which will cost a fortune, but I just have to keep an eye out for any discolouration as a sign it's time to get them fixed.
Reason I told you this long story, is that the night of the last VeloSocial, one of my friends was in just such an accident, but wasn't quite as lucky as I was, but lucky nonetheless. She needed stitches and lost teeth. Here in Canada, dental work is not covered by any health plan, so my poor friend is on the hook for thousands of dollars. I hope that, like my uncle, you can dig into our compassion and donate any amount of money to my friend's reconstructive surgery. I know you don't know her, but it could have just as easily been me asking you for help last summer. Paypal donations can be sent to this email address: aimster_23@hotmail.com.
One moral of the story should be obvious. Drinking and riding is really dumb, and I care about you so I don't want you to do it but the other isn't so obvious.
My friend Pasci had what he thought was a minor fall one day during work as a messenger in Swizerland. He thought nothing of it, but his boss and coworkers convinced him to go get checked out. The doctors told him that they'd caught swelling or a lesion in his brain (I forget which it was), and that if he'd finished his day at work, he might have died. Same thing happened just recently to actress Natasha Richardson while skiing in Mont Tremblanc. Even if you don't hit your head, you could jostle it around and risk death.
I don't want to sound preachy, but I'm well aware what message that a party mixing alcohol and the love of bikes can send, but hopefully we can stop more accidents, and more serious accidents, before they happen. I love throwing the VeloSocial party for you, and for me, but if something horrible did happen to any one of you, the party would end, my friends who own the bar would lose their family business and income, and I would not only be on the hook for all of it, but feel really guilty. In the biking community, there seems to be this dangerous bravado that compels us to ride our bikes drunk. But one of the beauties of bikes is that we can easily be converted from vehicle to pedestrian with just a hop over a top tube. Ain't no shame in my game, I do it all the time.
And there ain't no shame in protecting your friends, either. If we're to cultivate any real sense of community, we need to look out not just for ourselves, but for each other. If your buddy is too wasted to ride and lives farther away than you do, just offer your couch or floor, or – if you're that kind of friend – offer your bed. See how great this works out? And not just in Toronto, either, but for every bike community around the world.
We need to do our own honest self-assessments each time we leave a bar and strive to help ourselves, and help each other. By the time the next VeloSocial comes around on May 14th, I hope to have a logo and poster designed and printed that promotes the “Walk It or Lock It” philosophy. We all have an opportunity to come together and cultivate a real caring among our fellow riders. Let's step up to the plate and show each other what we're really made of.
Once again, the paypal account for my injured buddy is aimster_23@hotmail.com, and any donations are much appreciated. You can also donate at Shannen's Red Arrow bike shop in the market at 24 Kensington Avenue around back.
Thanks again for making it this far. Ride safe, and if you can't do that, ride smart. Peace.