My Trails

I have been putting off writing about my accident partially because it has been difficult to type but primarily because it has been too difficult to recall. I guess it is hard for me to come to grips with the irony that I could hike for six months through some of the wildest terrain I have ever been in, scale slippery, sheer rock ledges, cross boulder strewn streams, navigate miles of rocks and roots, and never suffer a serious fall. Not for one moment on my hike did it escape me that I was not invincible and something disastrous could easily change my plans, but the reality of how quickly plans change literally hit me full force two weeks ago.

On 12/3/12, I set out to do a little sightseeing in southwest Arizona and southern California. The area is a haven to many retirees escaping cold weather and I was interested to check it out. I had an idea there was a little magic to this community and not just lonely couples parked in their RV’s on a desolate piece of desert. I wasn’t sure what the attraction was, but before I could do much investigating, I was thrown a curve ball (or slider might be a more appropriate term.)

On the second day exploring, in the nearby town of Bouse, AZ, I pulled my motorcycle into a rest area where there were some picnic tables and historic markers. It was only fifteen miles from the campground, but I like to take frequent breaks and look at interesting places whenever I can. I had packed a lunch and the rest area seemed like a nice spot to eat and acquire some history. As soon as the front tire hit the soft, deep, sandy edge of the road, the motorcycle went down before I even had time to think. I was only going about five-mph but the force of the fall was like someone or something had kicked the front tire out from under the bike. Before I knew it, I was down in the gravel with the full force of the fall bearing directly on my shoulder.

I knew I was hurt but I didn’t realize that I had broken a bone in my shoulder until I got to my feet and felt the unmistakable, clicking movement under the skin. It was then that I knew my short vacation was at an end. It must have been pure adrenaline because I picked up the motorcycle, got it started after a bit, drove the winding highway back to the campground, and pushed the bike up the loading ramp on the back of my van. By that time the front of my shoulder had swollen to a giant lump and was beginning to throb.

Other than pain medication, I had an idea that medical science could do little for the trauma I had suffered. It was over 150 miles back to Phoenix, but I decided to drive back before getting any medical attention; at least there I had relatives to deliver me to the emergency room and help with my convalescence. I contacted Daryl as I headed east on I10 and told him what had happened. As long as I held my arm fairly still, the pain was bearable for the three-hour trip – thank goodness I wasn’t driving a stick-shift vehicle.

Daryl took me to an urgent-care facility that had x-ray capability on site and they confirmed I had broken my clavicle. The cure was ice to reduce swelling, a sling for immobility, and time for the body to heal itself. The time has been spent at Donna’s house and I can’t thank her enough for letting me stay. She has not only shared her home for a place to recover, but also waited on me and nursed me through those first painful days.

I am finally feeling well enough to start back on an exercise program. All this sitting around and eating has the drawback that I am gaining weight again. I have to cut back on the sweets… but not just yet – Donna just made some delicious Christmas sugar cookies.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, December 19th, 2012 at 10:41 pm and is filed under Adventure. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.