September 8, 2023
Drama, of an unwelcome nature
Day 2: Hutchinson to Spicer
"I'LL START THIS OUT RIGHT" Joe said. "I was in a bar somewhere..."
The breakfast-and-coffee members of our group are gathered in the hotel's breakfast area, swapping stories. Our topics range from how to deal with aggressive dogs while riding, to the personalities of military pilots, to places we've toured and things we've seen, with a wide assortment of forays into other seemingly equally unrelated subjects. Except that they were, in fact, related by the fact that they all involved personal experiences.
Ours is a widely diverse and varied company: among others we've got an insurance man, a physical therapist, an Air Force aircraft mechanic, an IT guy, a part-time masseuse, a nurse practitioner, and an accountant / small business owner. These are just the ones I've managed to hear about so far.
We've looked at the hourly forecast for the day and elected for a relatively late start. Luggage to the van by 0900, on the road not long after.
Despite taking a shortcut that I found yesterday evening, I'm soon at the tail end of the group because I've stopped for a photo opportunity while everyone else passes by.
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Nettie, an engaging and vivacious woman with a winning smile and an easy laugh, has stopped as well, for the same purpose. Since we're collectively the tail end of the group we ride easily, chitchatting and enjoying the fine morning weather.
Eventually the paved bike path turns into an unpaved surface and we are routed onto MN 7/MN 22. It's a fairly busy roadway but it has a decently wide shoulder. A few miles along there's a single chunk of broken asphalt, maybe four inches long and an inch tall, sitting all by itself in the middle of the shoulder. It's an easy thing to avoid and I do, steering around it with little more than a slight lean to one side.
We're riding easy, at probably 16 or 17 mph.Nettie's maybe 30 or 40 feet behind me, following more-or-less in my line. I watch in my rear view mirror as she approaches the clod. Her line of travel drifts a little and gradually puts her on a collision course with the wayward obstacle. Surely, surely, she'll see it and take evasive action.
Nope. I'm horrified to see her hit it absolutely square, lose control, and go careening down the embankment at the edge of the shoulder.
I immediately hit my brakes and reverse course back to the scene of the accident. Nettie doesn't see any of this and has set up as much verbal racket as she can muster, hoping to attract my attention. or really anyone's.
I call to her to let her know I'm on the scene, dismount, and head down the slope to where she's lying on one side in obvious discomfort. Trying to infuse the situation with as much calm as I can muster, I recall my Red Cross First aid training. I ask if she's hurt and if so how bad does she think it is, although I can already see she's favoring one shoulder.
Taking rapid stock, it's clear that she's got no life-threatening or really severe injuries but equally clear that her ride is probably done for the day, if not longer. I encourage her to lie back and relax as best she can under the circumstances, trying to slow her reactions and calm her down.
We establish that her left shoulder and the outside of her right hand seem to have sustained the worst injuries. She's not bleeding, there are no bones sticking out or making odd and unsightly bumps. That's good.
Once the basic situation is clear, I text the group to let them know there's been an incident and we need the support van, please. We get a rapid response from Carol, our van driver for the tour, letting us know she's on her way although we don't know exactly where she's coming from. We do know the rest of the group is at least a couple miles ahead of us.
I describe our location, send coordinates, and note that we're just a few yards from a milepost. Then we take time to continue calming down, taking inventory, and generally lower the stress level.
Nettie strips off a ring, knowing the hand it's on will swell, and I tuck it away in a safe place for her. We talk about other mishaps she's had ("I'm accident prone", she says. "I keep track of tours by what accidents I've had.") and generally keep the conversation going as her adrenaline rush fades. Somehow it doesn't occur to me to treat for shock, although we are at least just sitting on the roadside and not walking around.
We wait, and wait, for the van to arrive. More time passes than we think it should take, and then we get a call from Carol. "I'm at Milepost 127 but don't see you. I've gone all the way from 126 to 129 and don't see you. Where are you?"
Eventually, after several attempts to share our location (I have an Android phone but Carol's is an iPhone. Nettie's got an iPhone but doesn't know how to share her location. I've sent our coordinates in the group chat but Carol doesn't know how to use those to get directions. Ain't technology great?), Carol calls us.
We finally realize that there must be more than one milepost 127. The one close to us must be MP 127 for MN 22, which at this spot shares the roadbed with MN 7, but Carol's on a part of MN 7 west of the junction with MN 22, at a different milepost 127. Who knew?
Finally all is resolved and Carol finds us. We load Nettie's bike onto the rack and Nettie into the van, freeing me to resume my ride. By this time it's clear that I'll be on my own for the remainder of the day, but that's no problem. I ride alone a lot at home anyhow and, so long as nothing else untoward happens, it won't be a problem.
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And it isn't any problem at all. Arriving in Cosmos just at noon, I stop at the Casey's for a quick break. It's lunchtime, so I get a sandwich of some sort to go with my king-sized PayDay bar ("the poor man's PowerBar") and repair to the small town park across the sreet. There are pleasantly-shaded picnic tables there, making the perfect place to enjoy lunch.
Checking my phone I find that I've missed a call from our favorite local restaurant. The only reason they'd be calling would be to let us know that our recent wine order is ready to be collected, so I check in with my wife to alert her. We exchange a few bits of news, then it's time to get rolling again.
Leaving Cosmos I'm headed due north. There's a wind from the south, helping me hold a pace well above what I can ordinarily manage for the next fifteen or so miles. I'm feeling good.
Passing through the next small town, Grove City, I find our van driver waiting for me just to check that I'm alright and not in need of water, snacks, or anything else. Good on you, Carol- I really appreciate your concern for the welfare of each of us.
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Turning west several more miles up the road, the tail wind becomes a cross wind from which there's no hiding. My speed drops by a half dozen miles an hour, totally not to my surprise. At this stage, however, I'm in the home stretch with only 15 or fewer miles to go. I'll make it, late but in fine form.
County Highway 10, on which I'm riding, eventually shows its nastier side. A mile-long series of ass-busting, soul-destroying seams or cracks an inch wide and 3/4 of an inch deep, spaced at irregular and too-short intervals crosses the road perpendicular to my line of travel. There's no avoiding them, nor evading them. The only thing I can do is slow down, and try to stand up as I reach each one to mitigate the impact on my backside.
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8 months ago
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Finally, finally that segment ends and I'm on a road with a much better surface, with just a handful of miles left to ride. I make up my mind that I will arrive before 3:00- well after the rest of the group but acceptable given how the day has unfolded.
Carol's been sitting vigil outside the hotel door, awaiting my arrival. She ushers me into the hotel, shows me to our private bike parking room, and makes sure all is well before heading off to her next activity.
My roommate's already had his shower, of course, so after I get all of the electronic paraphernalia seen to it's my turn. Wow, I needed that.
There's a bit of slack time to work on the journal, then it's off to the rider's meeting and dinner- both held at the bar across the street from the hotel- then back here to finish this work.
Tomorrow's a short day, mileage-wise, and the group's eager for an early start so as to try to beat the rain that's forecast to begin in early afternoon. We'll see, won't we?
Today's ride: 52 miles (84 km)
Total: 112 miles (180 km)
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8 months ago
You forgot to tell us about the bike repairs needed - that's an important piece of the story.
Do you have the same roommate the entire tour, or do you rotate?
Enjoy your short day tomorrow!
8 months ago
8 months ago
It's not my first group tour rodeo, but yes...
Bike damage appeared minimal in the field (front wheel out of true, but not trashed) but I don’t know whether there was anything else that required a mechanic's attention.
I have only two data points about roomies, but so far I've been paired with the same guy. Tomorrow I will be odd man out: we have five gents to share three rooms, so each of us will have a couple nights alone. My first turn is tomorrow.
8 months ago
8 months ago
No other damage, that I know of.
8 months ago
I'm so glad you were with Nettie. Your practical/level head will meet the need of any crisis while your light humor lessens it. I'm sure she appreciated you!
8 months ago