Yeah, so six years ago today...this happened.

[ScottR]

So, six years ago today (April 1st) I learned a lot of things...like, learning I could fly...while proving my new gift of flight I failed to realize that it did not include instructions, of how to "stick the landing". I learned pain is a very relative term/sensation. I leaned, I could no longer do what I used to, or at least the way I used to do it. I also learned that life as I had known it; up to that point; had been changed forever. Just to name a few things.

Since that day...my world has been turned upside down. The physical and mental struggles have been no less than epic. Yet, still...here I still am...gimped up, but still successfully sucking air and killing it.

Here's how I look at it now. I was forced into chasing my dream of being able to play guitar, by some stupid bimbo texting while driving...thanks b!tch!
Naa, I can't be mad at her, really. In fact...she did me a friggin solid! How's that you ask? The event that almost pulled my card and made my life pretty sh!tty in general for a few years, also got me here, and let me tell ya, "here" is pretty f@&kin awesome! I can play as much as I want, any time I want. I get up when I feel like it go to bed when I feel like it. Plus... I have the luxury of time more than ever before.

So yeah, it happened, it sucked, it got better, I'm happier, I don't suck as much on guitar, and you guys are f@#kin awesome! Thank you all for making this such an awesome experience from day one! I am eternally grateful to you all and just thought I would share that tid-bit.

PRO TIP/FULL DISCLOSURE* Getting mangled in a motorcycle crash to chase your dreams is NOT necessary or recomended. Yeah, don't do that.

 

[bodia]

Love ya, bro!

 

[alantig]

Glad you're here, man. It hurts just to look at that bike.

And remember, Douglas Adams said the secret to flying is learning to throw yourself at the ground and miss.

 

[sergiodeblanc]

Bangin’!

 

[AP515]

Bangin’!

This is one time when that exclamation takes on a whole new meaning...

Glad you are still here Scott.

I took one similar in 1999. Some guy was looking down at his pager, (yes that is how far technology has come in 20 years), and ran the red light. He T-boned the car I was a passenger in, right into the passenger side door at 50 miles an hour. I woke up in the hospital 3 days later.

 

[Kiwi]

Ugghh, Scott. I'm a member of your club, too. Sending serious sympathy for that x-ray and the next six years.

March 1995, I low-sided on a curving country road at 45 mph and made a one-point landing on my kneecap.

Three months later when I could sorta walk again, I gave up riding. But I then took up electric guitar in a big way, and, well, here we all are on the PRS Forum. Ain't life grand?

I tell my friends: Always do it in the correct order. Sell the bike, buy the guitar. One of these is less likely to actually kill you.

Brave post. Hope the guitars bring you much joy for the years to come.

--K--

 

[ScottR]

Love ya, bro!

Love ya back man..

Glad you're here, man. It hurts just to look at that bike.

And remember, Douglas Adams said the secret to flying is learning to throw yourself at the ground and miss.

Me too man! Yeah, the ground is mean...

Banged!

Fixed it for ya bro

 

[ScottR]

This is one time when that exclamation takes on a whole new meaning...

Glad you are still here Scott.

I took one similar in 1999. Some guy was looking down at his pager, (yes that is how far technology has come in 20 years), and ran the red light. He T-boned the car I was a passenger in, right into the passenger side door at 50 miles an hour. I woke up in the hospital 3 days later.

Thanks man! I'm glad we both lived to tell the tales! Yeah, waking up three days later is a bizarre feeling isn't it?

The only memory I have is being wheeled on a gurney into the trauma unit from the Heli-Pad on the roof of the hospital. The rotor wash blew my "Chrome Sheet" off and I was strapped down wearing only my helmet.

Which would be a typical Monday night...minus the helicopter part of course. I ain't ballin like that.

 

[alantig]

I tell my friends: Always do it in the correct order. Sell the bike, buy the guitar. One of these is less likely to actually kill you.

On the other hand, your significant other is far less likely to swing your new motorcycle at your head!

 

[ScottR]

On the other hand, your significant other is far less likely to swing your new motorcycle at your head!

Excellent point...man, the world is such a dangerous place... isnt it?!

 

[Wakester]

My wife did the same exact thing. She got on a bike for the first time in 20 years, rolled along at 5mph forgot to clutch, and she goes down hard on her shoulder. Had to have 2 surgeries to fix it properly. She never got back on that bike.

 

[Alnus Rubra]

I’m really glad my fellow crayon eater is here to take the heat off me from time to time! Your BFAM

 

[AP515]

My wife did the same exact thing. She got on a bike for the first time in 20 years, rolled along at 5mph forgot to clutch, and she goes down hard on her shoulder. Had to have 2 surgeries to fix it properly. She never got back on that bike.

Sorry for your wife!

It brings to mind a story I gotta tell. I had been married a year or so. I owned an old Husqvarna and I thought it would be great to have my wife ride too. She told me she rode as a child so I found a little 4 stroke she could ride and we could putt around in the forests together, trail riding. We planned a date, loaded up the camping gear and headed out to a great spot to ride. I off-load the bikes in this meadow with a few mud puddles from a recent rain. We get on and fire them up. I head out 30 yards or so and look back to see how she is doing. She is wide eyed and scared with both feet stuck straight out and headed straight for one of the biggest mud puddles there is. She splashes into it and the bike falls over and she takes a bath! I pull the bike out and stand it upright. She goes back to the camper and dries off. We load the bikes and go home. I guess it isn't just like riding a bike. You don't always remember how to ride!

 

[veinbuster]

Once upon a time I was practicing wheelies with some guys from New Jersey on an airport runway. After about an hour one of the guys got a good front end lift for the first time. And panicked. We stood dumbfounded as he took both hands off the bars and both feet off the pegs. He slid off the back and the bike quickly tipped over. Full leathers and helmet meant he wasn’t hurt too much, but it was scary to watch.

 

[WA Paul]

Good lord that’s a tough picture to look at! Angels were clearly with you that day!

Glad you are still with us, sharing the love of guitars and more importantly good cheer!

 

[ScottR]

I’m really glad my fellow crayon eater is here to take the heat off me from time to time! Your BFAM

I wouldn't have it any other way homie!

 

[toothace]

Dude! Doctors in Alabama were able to fix that kind of injury??

Glad to have you around here!

 

[dmatthews]

OMG... brutal pics. Glad you're OK man.
In the spirit of this thread, here's "ONE" of my motorcycle crash stories...

A long time ago when the earth was green, I had a um... green Kawasaki 400 triple 2-stroke. Loved that bike.
My buddy at the time had a small Suzi 125.
We were up at the top of the Capilano Dam road in West Van, B.C., just out for a jaunt and generally having fun... until...
On the way back down, my buddy decided it was "rat race time", and dared me to pass him through extremely tight and twisty turns.
OK, you're on I thought as I had the clear advantage in speed and power. Thing was, he was in front, and the corners were very tight, and came very often.
I was hot on his tail, just inches away from his rear wheel when he leaned left as hard and low as he could to go around a corner.
He had to lay it down. The corner was too tight. The sparks from his pegs and frame spewed like fireworks over and at my head. I knew I had two choices.
Either avoid my buddy and take the curb, or run him over. I was that close.
Like the idiot that I remain today, I took the curb... full on.
The front wheel of the Kawi hit the curb and I flew. I flew like freakin' Superman. I must have been airborne for a good 25 to 30 feet (without a cape).
I landed and rolled in leaves, moss, and various and sundry forest floor offerings. I jumped up and shouted (and for some reason ripped off my shirt) "Holy crap, I made it!". Reason being, I didn't hit a tree! There's lots and lots of trees!
My bike however... as if that wasn't enough... was standing on its front wheel, with the top of the tank and seat up against the trunk of a tree, rear wheel spinning in the air, perpendicular to the tree.
It was still running, I sh!t you not. What the...

I put my shirt back on, turned the bike off, and let it fall to its side. Picked it up and pushed it to the road.
My buddy had some road rash, and that was it. My steering was off by about 30 degrees, so I did the old "stick the wheel between your legs and twist the handlebars" trick.
I should at least have broken numerous bones, maybe worse. I was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt along with a full face helmet.
My thoughts on the ride home revolved around what might have happened had I run my buddy over instead.

 

[alantig]

I worry about my bike riding friends. There’s so much that can go wrong, even if it’s not your fault. But then, I have a history of friends and family having bad luck with bikes.

One of my friends growing up was riding his brother’s bike before he was old enough to have a license. Yeah, I know. He came around a turn and found a downed tree. Dumped the bike, messed up his wrist a bit. His brother wanted to destroy the bike. Fortunately, no lasting effects.

My dad’s best friend was killed on a bike. Lost control around a curve, hit a guard rail. My mother said to his widow, “That just doesn’t sound like him, to do something careless.” His widow said, “When he got out riding with his friends, he’d do things he wouldn’t normally do.” The thing I remember most from the funeral home was his parents sitting there, his dad silent with this faraway look in his eyes, and his mother saying, “This isn’t right - he should be burying me.” My band had played his son’s graduation party three weeks before that. I found out later he told my parents he was thinking about offering to manage us to try to make a go of it. His wife asked me later if his voice was anywhere on our tapes from that day, and it was, so I was able to give her a copy of that.

One of my best friends started riding when he was older. He didn’t have the best of luck, and a couple of us kept telling him that a motorcycle was maybe not his best choice. One day he came into work and said, “Check this out.” Pulled his pant leg up to show he had a pretty nasty burn on his leg. He’d dropped his keys by his bike, and when he bent over to pick them up, he pressed his leg against the hot exhaust. I’ll never forget our one friend telling him, “Dude, take a hint - get rid of the f**king bike. Seriously. It’s a sign.” Two weeks later, he didn’t show up for work. Got word from his wife - he’d dumped the bike and was in the hospital in bad shape. Suffered a bad head injury and it took years to recover. We would text a lot - he used it as therapy because he had trouble in social situations. To a lot of people, it looked like there was nothing wrong with him, but when he’d talk, I could see where he’d stumble over a word or have trouble with the next word he was looking for. He told me he got tired of seeing new doctors because they’d look at his charts, then look at him and say, “How are you even alive?” He had trouble with balance and stuff for a long time - he told me after one test, the results were so bad they didn’t even show up on the charts. He gave up computer programming because he said he just couldn’t do that kind of work any more. He got a job repairing elevators. To show you how bad his luck was, in the first few months he was doing that work, I got a text from him. Opened it up - it was his finger. Smashed. One of the weights had slid off the pile and landed on it - he never saw it coming. Crushed the tip. Doc told him the nail was the only thing holding the finger together, and that if he lost the nail, he was going to lose the tip of the finger. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

My best friend, who I go to concerts with, rides a lot - he’ll think nothing of taking the bike and going 400 miles to a show. And I cringe every time I hear a news report that there was a motorcycle accident.

So, I’m the guy who rides behind guys on bikes and tries not to pass, because I know I’m watching out for those guys. The next guy might not be. It’s not that I feel like I’m protecting them, just that I know I’m watching for them, so I’m not going to overlook them. So be careful out there, my biker friends!

 

[veinbuster]

Dang, that’s a lot of bad luck.
It did make me think about whether or not I knew any motorcyclist how hadn’t had an accident. Nope. And they can get very bad very fast. It doesn’t matter how good you are on the bike. Stuff goes sideways.
I picked my daughter up at school one day and we took the long way home. I came around the first half of a right-left S and saw a Dodge Minivan heading straight for me. I didn’t feel I could lean harder right, so picked the bike up and went to the extreme left side of the road - half an empty lane and I knew I could hug the far edge. The problem was the driver watch the yellow cross the road and turned back into us, knocked the bike over and the two of us slide headfirst down the cliff. The driver called her lawyer. The car behind her called 911.
I was at fault because I was on the wrong side of the road. The police agreed that it was better than staying put and going through her windshield so there was no fine and no points on my license.

I worry about my bike riding friends. There’s so much that can go wrong, even if it’s not your fault. But then, I have a history of friends and family having bad luck with bikes.

One of my friends growing up was riding his brother’s bike before he was old enough to have a license. Yeah, I know. He came around a turn and found a downed tree. Dumped the bike, messed up his wrist a bit. His brother wanted to destroy the bike. Fortunately, no lasting effects.

My dad’s best friend was killed on a bike. Lost control around a curve, hit a guard rail. My mother said to his widow, “That just doesn’t sound like him, to do something careless.” His widow said, “When he got out riding with his friends, he’d do things he wouldn’t normally do.” The thing I remember most from the funeral home was his parents sitting there, his dad silent with this faraway look in his eyes, and his mother saying, “This isn’t right - he should be burying me.” My band had played his son’s graduation party three weeks before that. I found out later he told my parents he was thinking about offering to manage us to try to make a go of it. His wife asked me later if his voice was anywhere on our tapes from that day, and it was, so I was able to give her a copy of that.

One of my best friends started riding when he was older. He didn’t have the best of luck, and a couple of us kept telling him that a motorcycle was maybe not his best choice. One day he came into work and said, “Check this out.” Pulled his pant leg up to show he had a pretty nasty burn on his leg. He’d dropped his keys by his bike, and when he bent over to pick them up, he pressed his leg against the hot exhaust. I’ll never forget our one friend telling him, “Dude, take a hint - get rid of the f**king bike. Seriously. It’s a sign.” Two weeks later, he didn’t show up for work. Got word from his wife - he’d dumped the bike and was in the hospital in bad shape. Suffered a bad head injury and it took years to recover. We would text a lot - he used it as therapy because he had trouble in social situations. To a lot of people, it looked like there was nothing wrong with him, but when he’d talk, I could see where he’d stumble over a word or have trouble with the next word he was looking for. He told me he got tired of seeing new doctors because they’d look at his charts, then look at him and say, “How are you even alive?” He had trouble with balance and stuff for a long time - he told me after one test, the results were so bad they didn’t even show up on the charts. He gave up computer programming because he said he just couldn’t do that kind of work any more. He got a job repairing elevators. To show you how bad his luck was, in the first few months he was doing that work, I got a text from him. Opened it up - it was his finger. Smashed. One of the weights had slid off the pile and landed on it - he never saw it coming. Crushed the tip. Doc told him the nail was the only thing holding the finger together, and that if he lost the nail, he was going to lose the tip of the finger. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

My best friend, who I go to concerts with, rides a lot - he’ll think nothing of taking the bike and going 400 miles to a show. And I cringe every time I hear a news report that there was a motorcycle accident.

So, I’m the guy who rides behind guys on bikes and tries not to pass, because I know I’m watching out for those guys. The next guy might not be. It’s not that I feel like I’m protecting them, just that I know I’m watching for them, so I’m not going to overlook them. So be careful out there, my biker friends!