The Innkeeper Flew---I Crashed While Biking. (I and My Hands Are Thankful for Good Samaritans.)

    Good morning everyone,

I just awoke from a lengthy Sunday nap. A cable on my 21 speed bike got caught on my left pedal, seizing it. I went sprawling on the street while biking home from San Leandro.

It was too bad.  I was riding the fastest I had for the whole day--27.4 miles per hour,
my cyclometer told me so.  Watching this device also distracted me from seeing the cable wrapping around my bike.

The green streak is my route to San Leandro, using San Leandro St. The red x marks 

the bloody spot where I had my adventure. The blue x is where the Colosseum BART
station is located, where I got additional medical help.  

The fleshy portion on my left thumb was split open when I braced myself for impact by extending my hands (I am left-handed by the way) forward while temporarily flying horizontally like Superman.  Unfortunately, my body is not invulnerable like his.

As I write, my hand stings like the dickens. A pain killer, I took; it's helping. I'm too tired and sore to write much. I'll grab dinner and head for bed, again. I haven't eaten since breakfast.  My knees and palms ache, my back is a bit twisted.

But I did get in ninety minutes of exercise, so that's something.

I rode to see friends this morning, after five hours sleep. I was excited, having a better time at riding twenty miles today.  Better than last week (click here for more about that). I was charging home on my bike when all the drama that can happen on a bike happened.

Oh brother.

Fortunately, two cars stopped as I sat in the middle of a mud puddle, propped up against a column that holds up the BART train tracks on San Leandro Ave in Oakland. I was just three miles from home. One lady, Kathy, found a First Aid kit in the glove compartment of the car. Was I glad (that's a gratitude).

I had water in my water bottle. I used it to wash off the mud on both of my hands. Thoughts of all the germs invading my body ran through my mind as I stared at them, in shock. It was interesting seeing blood ooze underneath the mud and a good flap of skin pulled away from my thumb.

When she put on the antiseptic, boy, did it sting.  It meant it was doing it's work. (Gratitude number two.) Her boyfriend, the driver, helped too. We both share a name, Carlos. That's my middle name. We got to talking, me, streaked with dirt and blood, and him, using my water bottle, washing the mud off my hands.

It ended up Carlos and I exchanged telephone numbers. He wants to use my services. How about that?  I'll tell you what about that: I've had more comfortable ways of getting new clients, but I won't complain. (Semi-gratitude three.)

Their small car couldn't fit my bike so I pedaled onwards, towards home.  I approached a BART station and asked the ticket agents if they had a first aid kit as my right elbow was bleeding and I was still had mud that had raced up my arms.  Plied with more antiseptics and bandages, I used the public bathroom to wash up and patch my wounds. I was sweating now, the reaction to what I went through was kicking in.

The cool water stung my wounds. No hot water in the bathroom, but it was refreshing, while stinging at the same time.
I'm a lucky guy, additional gratitudes:
1. No broken bones that I know of.
2. People stopped to help me, a stranger.
3. I landed on dirt instead of asphalt.
4. I got a mint milkshake after the crash. Holding the cool drink against my throbbing palms felt great.
5. I had a terrific ride on my bike  It was exciting seeing my progress as a cyclist, until it was jarringly interrupted.
6. I don't wear a helmet. I always thought I had a thick head, today proved it. It was not damaged, at least not more so.
7. I didn't get rained on.
8. My jeans, sports vest and shirt have a pretty cool mud streak that swipes diagonally across my body. This week I feel like wearing it, like a badge of honor, showing it off to other bikers. (Kidding.)
9. I'm thankful that I'm still grateful in spite of this accident and retain my sense of humor.

So, those are a few gratitudes.  I'll catch up with you guys later today.

Typing with nine fingers,

Related Post: 

The Innkeeper Flew, Part II