Here it goes....
It was a beautiful Sunday morning. I'd slept till 10am because it was sort of hazy outside and I couldn't tell the time of sunrise. The camp was all abuzz with 2 and 4 stroke dirt bikes at that point, ripping in and out of the camp, everyone getting their last runs before they packed up and rolled out. First things first, feed Julien. Julien, was my cat who was on this epic move from New York to California with me, and a real road warrior to boot. Next, I put my boots on, grabbed my helmet and a NOS from the cooler, and headed across camp, up to the Husqvarna tent. There I met up with my riding partner. Ya see, the night before she told me that she wanted to ride with me, and I was so stoked. I couldn't wait for Sunday morning. There I was, sipping on my energy drink, waking up and looking at the bait for a 125, which would have been a small step up from the 85 that I rode the day before, but all the 125's were taken. So instead, there it was, the 250 4stroke. A meatier animal, but much like a friends bike that I'd enjoyed riding Saturday afternoon. It was slightly taller than the 85, had better suspension, and a much nicer engine (more power). Perfect for all those hills we'd be ripping up and down. Before you know it, I was putting my energy drink down and we were off. Bounding up hills and bombing steep tracks down hillsides, crawling up rocky canyons and 1st gear long climbs to the top. When we'd risen out of the thick of the proving grounds, we explored across the channel up another hill. Well, when I got to the top, I felt that the left fork was more of an option for me, but I immediately turned around and tried to follow her up the right fork, and since it was such a steep slant around that blind from left to right, I was crawling in first gear so that I could keep the traction on that sifty steep surface. Well, turns out she was coming back to see where I'd gone, and she was in that right line that I was gonna take, so I made a move to adjust my line on the left side and scoot around her, and I gave that 1st gear some throttle, but instead of it grabbing and moving me anywhere, the rear tire slid down into the sifty steep siding, throttle taking off as I was still holding on when I slid off the seat, The bike had nowhere to go but naturally walked up on the left wall, flipping a 180 in the air. And it came down in all it's glory sideways on my knee, pinning me to the ground. In those very painful and quick moments, I knew I had to get my knee out from where it was trapped, and so downhill being to my left, I rolled my body left breaking contact with my knee and the bike. That was the most excruciating thing I'd ever felt. I thought for sure my leg was two completely different items by this point. It took me a sec before I could even look down to assess the damage. Well, remarkably there was no dangling participle below my knee, and everything seemed intact. It was at that point purely a miracle and good riding boots. I grabbed my lower leg and shimmied up onto the rim of that steep bank. My body began to get hot, so I took off my helmet and jacket, wincing in pain, with slight maniacal laughter, and snippits of jokes to break the tension while we sat up there hoping I could muscle through the injury to make it back to camp. The pain was making me nauseous. I wanted to puke. I did not want to be carried off that hill by a helicopter. So we made a plan that my riding buddy would ride my bike down and then she'd come back up and I'd ride down on the back of hers. She was so good, and helped me get on the bike and we rode down that hill very carefully, I didn't even feel any bumps. So then we got to the bike I was riding, she helped me get off her bike, and onto mine, keep in mind this is all happening while taking brief pauses to wince and recover from the pain, and to suck up as much as I could to make the mission possible. I leaned forward on those handlebars enough to slide a leg over the seat with as little trauma to my left leg, and she put the bike in 1st gear for me, and I pushed the start button and I rode off slowly down the trail toward camp. She quickly got on her bike and raced to the front and guided me in to camp on the easy roads, then she beat me to my truck and as I slowly rolled up to her, she helped me off the bike, and then helped me hobble to the bench. I was absolutely not wanting to draw much attention to myself, so I tried to be as invisible as possible. My riding buddy helped me crawl into the bed of my truck where I'd spend the next few hours waiting for my sister. The Husky folks brought me some comfort items like energy drinks, and made sure my cooler and food was all accessible. A couple of camp neighbors saw that something wasn't right, and they came over and kept me company here and there. Didn't take long for the camp ranger and medic to show up and take my vitals and splint my leg. They were awesome. I told them I'd have to leave my truck in the camp for a day, and that I was being picked up to head to the hospital. They said they'd keep an eye on things while I was gone, and I was set. When my sister got there, I needed her to load all my campsite things into the truck before we took off, so that everything was nice and secure in the truck while we were gone. She did an excellent job. She was a real trooper. And off we were in no time to the Los Angeles VA Emergency room. Long story short, we all know how ER's go. They took X-Rays, and they absolutely found NOTHING BROKEN. But there wasn't an MRI tech in house so the Dr. put in the order for an MRI and I had to follow up. They initially scheduled me a week away, but I wasn't sitting for that, so I was on the phone calling MRI to see if they had any cancellations and openings, and on Wednesday they told me to come in and have a seat. I got there at 2:30, and I was out by 3:30, amazing turnaround. That brings me to today, Thursday, the results are that I have a completely destroyed Miniscus, and some other torn tissues. But the worst of it being my miniscus. I think that's pretty neat. And tomorrow I have to get someone to get me an appointment with a surgeon and get my knee worked on, because I'll be laid up for a quick minute.
Nonetheless, I can't wait to get back on a dirtbike. I always have such a great time. This next time I'm gonna ride with knee braces and all the pads. Then I'll be set to rip and tumble, and I won't have to worry bout any more major injuries. hahaha Operation quick heal, Operation ride!
