Early Thursday afternoon kicked off with a sense of relief as I had just finished the second draft of my thesis. After six weeks of feeling as intelligent as a third grader, rewriting two chapters because my advisor didnt like the structure of them anymore, and debating whether or not ditching school in favor of fleeing to Mexico was a good life choice, I had that fucker all buttoned up and ready to go. My afternoon plans were simple, head home, crack a beer, go ride my mountain bike for a bit, then crack some more beers. It all seemed rather simple, but instead I got make a detour to the CSU health center. I was entering an underpass (coming down a slight hill), when a cyclist traveling in the opposite direction swerved into my lane to get past a pedestrian. I had time to grab the brakes, but knew that we were headed for a crash. I got up off the ground, and when I went to asses the damages, and see if the other cyclist was okay I noticed that my finger didnt look normal.
Yup my well used middle finger didnt know how to bend anymore, and my ring finger didnt look too good either. After determining I sustained all the injuries stemming from the crash I started to make my way to the health center. A good samaritan (actually the pedestrian who was getting passed) was kind enough to walk my bike to the health center with me. The good news was that I didnt have to wait in line, and got to see a doctor ASAP. The bad news was that on top of the messed up fingers, I had a deep cut to my left elbow, a dinged up right shoulder, cuts and scrapes on my right leg. X-rays were ordered, cuts were cleaned and stitched up, and I got a full once over to make sure there weren’t any other injuries that had been missed. My helmet didnt show any signs of a major impact, but I was fucking happy to be wearing that thing. The x-rays came back negative, nothing broken in my fingers or hands, but I had “mallet finger“. Basically the tendon in my finger got torn and that’s why it looked all fucked up.
Right now I get to wait until Wednesday to see a hand doctor who will decide if any sort of surgery is needed, or if the tendon should be able to heal on its own over the next six to eight weeks. With that I was sent on my way home with a bag full of medical supplies, a bottle full of pain pills, and an immobilized middle finger. Walking home while holding a bike next to myself is my equivalent of the “walk of shame”, my bike was the pair of heels the 19 year old girl carries in her hand, and my bandages were the equivalent of her ruined makeup from the night before. While I wished no one had seen, I knew that plenty had and through a reasonable thought process they were able to figure out what had happened to me. As far as my personal stuff, only my helmet was a casualty, everything that had been in my pockets and in my Dank Bag (computer, charger, orange, beverage, etc) survived.
My bike was another story, looks like the carbon fork on my old cross bike is weaker than the bones in my middle finger (not surprising when you consider I’m from New Jersey), and the handlebar got bent to a point that it is only good for hitting someone I dont like in the kneecap. Not sure what the future will hold for this dear bike of mine, I’ve ridden that Jake the Snake for countless commutes to work, pedaled it on paved bike paths, back country New Jersey roads, back woods Montana logging roads, ribbons of singletrack, and on trips to more liquor stores than I can count. The debate begins as far as whether or not to fix this baby up, or scrounge together some funds for a replacement steed. Now read Dirty’s post below, chock full of boobies and skatepark radness.by