Pacific
06-21-2006, 03:08 PM
This morning I left early for work. It’s a forty-minute ride, and if I leave at 5:50, I avoid the main streams of traffic, which makes it a great way to begin the day.
I have two choices for my route – the main highway, or a twisty back road that joins the highway ten miles south. In the last two years of commuting – 400 trips, maybe 80 or 90 of them on the bike -- I have traveled the highway route perhaps 5 times. The back road feels quicker, makes for more fun, and harbors fewer problem drivers. But it’s narrow, rural, and home to dear little deer.
For some reason, this morning, I decided to take the highway. Call it a little voice. I’ve had deer on the brain recently, what with the death of Lawrence Brodsky and all the posts on the board – from Wild Will’s condemnation of animated venison, to the recent DMC exchange between Bob and Bones. “Could be a dear on the back road this early,” the voice said. Fair enough, I thought. I’ll give it a miss today. Zip down the highway.
Two or three miles along the highway, I hit a deer.
All the contradictory clichés apply. It all happened so fast. And yet time seemed to slow down. Blah blah blah.
Here’s the shortened version.
I clearly remember sensing the deer before I saw it. I suppose that means that my vision and brain registered before the thought crawled into a string of words that went something like this: “Oh ****, a deer!”
Can’t say whether the animal came from the left or the right. It seems to me it hopped the median in the centre of the road, and plopped into my lane. It felt like I reacted slowly – that I hesitated briefly in that limbo where we ask the question, “What’s it gonna do?” There was a car just behind me in the right-hand lane, so I could not slow and veer. (Not that I thought about this – but I did not veer.) I know I grabbed a handful of brake (ABS, servo assist, TYVFM), and I’m fairly certain that these features contributed to the events that followed.
I hit the deer squarely, as far as I remember. It was a fairly small animal, thankfully. Can’t say how fast I was moving at that point. Speed-at-sighting would have been about 55 (the posted speed limit). Speed at impact . . . dunno . . . 40? 30? Maybe as high as 50. (Perhaps I only managed to scrub off 5 mph from the posted speed limit of 55, though I have seen riders going as much as 70 on that road).
Anyway, I hit it square. The next moment I was covered in deer shit and the head of the bike started to shake violently. I remember thinking, “I’m going down.” And I remember thinking, “I’ve got a good chance of dying here.” Strangely, I felt calm . . . by which I mean there was no adrenaline rush. Maybe brain and body said, You’ve got some work to do in the next few seconds, so no adrenaline cocktail for you.
Miraculously, the bike stayed upright, even with the bars slapping back and forth in my hands, and I was able to ride it out. I have to say that my first thought, once I had the bars steadied and realized that I was not going down, was entirely self-congratulatory. “I *****n rode ‘er out! Who’s yer daddy?” :eusa_clap:
That’s foolish, of course: a conspiracy of forces got me through—flat road, decreasing speed, angle of impact, ABS & servo, my size, perhaps . . . and possibly a cosmic nod that my work on the planet is not yet through.
The some part of the deer wrapped around and smacked me in the shin, which inflamed mightily, though x-rays at the local hospital revealed no bone damage. It’s quite painful right now, and swollen like a . . . like a . . . well, like any member of the board after a hard smack.
Pictures attached.
I'm including a particularly gruesome picture of the deer because it shows the point of impact. If you don't have a strong stomach, though . . .
Also, I would like it understood that I was not drunk, stoned, or inattentive, nor do I blame the deer.
Jay
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/2.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/3.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/5.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/14.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/16.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/27.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/31.jpg
I have two choices for my route – the main highway, or a twisty back road that joins the highway ten miles south. In the last two years of commuting – 400 trips, maybe 80 or 90 of them on the bike -- I have traveled the highway route perhaps 5 times. The back road feels quicker, makes for more fun, and harbors fewer problem drivers. But it’s narrow, rural, and home to dear little deer.
For some reason, this morning, I decided to take the highway. Call it a little voice. I’ve had deer on the brain recently, what with the death of Lawrence Brodsky and all the posts on the board – from Wild Will’s condemnation of animated venison, to the recent DMC exchange between Bob and Bones. “Could be a dear on the back road this early,” the voice said. Fair enough, I thought. I’ll give it a miss today. Zip down the highway.
Two or three miles along the highway, I hit a deer.
All the contradictory clichés apply. It all happened so fast. And yet time seemed to slow down. Blah blah blah.
Here’s the shortened version.
I clearly remember sensing the deer before I saw it. I suppose that means that my vision and brain registered before the thought crawled into a string of words that went something like this: “Oh ****, a deer!”
Can’t say whether the animal came from the left or the right. It seems to me it hopped the median in the centre of the road, and plopped into my lane. It felt like I reacted slowly – that I hesitated briefly in that limbo where we ask the question, “What’s it gonna do?” There was a car just behind me in the right-hand lane, so I could not slow and veer. (Not that I thought about this – but I did not veer.) I know I grabbed a handful of brake (ABS, servo assist, TYVFM), and I’m fairly certain that these features contributed to the events that followed.
I hit the deer squarely, as far as I remember. It was a fairly small animal, thankfully. Can’t say how fast I was moving at that point. Speed-at-sighting would have been about 55 (the posted speed limit). Speed at impact . . . dunno . . . 40? 30? Maybe as high as 50. (Perhaps I only managed to scrub off 5 mph from the posted speed limit of 55, though I have seen riders going as much as 70 on that road).
Anyway, I hit it square. The next moment I was covered in deer shit and the head of the bike started to shake violently. I remember thinking, “I’m going down.” And I remember thinking, “I’ve got a good chance of dying here.” Strangely, I felt calm . . . by which I mean there was no adrenaline rush. Maybe brain and body said, You’ve got some work to do in the next few seconds, so no adrenaline cocktail for you.
Miraculously, the bike stayed upright, even with the bars slapping back and forth in my hands, and I was able to ride it out. I have to say that my first thought, once I had the bars steadied and realized that I was not going down, was entirely self-congratulatory. “I *****n rode ‘er out! Who’s yer daddy?” :eusa_clap:
That’s foolish, of course: a conspiracy of forces got me through—flat road, decreasing speed, angle of impact, ABS & servo, my size, perhaps . . . and possibly a cosmic nod that my work on the planet is not yet through.
The some part of the deer wrapped around and smacked me in the shin, which inflamed mightily, though x-rays at the local hospital revealed no bone damage. It’s quite painful right now, and swollen like a . . . like a . . . well, like any member of the board after a hard smack.
Pictures attached.
I'm including a particularly gruesome picture of the deer because it shows the point of impact. If you don't have a strong stomach, though . . .
Also, I would like it understood that I was not drunk, stoned, or inattentive, nor do I blame the deer.
Jay
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/2.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/3.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/5.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/14.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/16.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/27.jpg
http://www.jackconnolly.com/r1150r/31.jpg