BIKE RIDE KNOCKS SENSE INTO AIRMAN

  • Published
  • By Staff Sgt. Odin Arcos
  • 92nd Aerospace Medicine Squadron
FAIRCHILD AIR FORCE BASE, Wash. --  On a beautiful summer Saturday morning, I was enjoying the gondola ride up to the top of Silver Mountain, Idaho. In the winter, Silver Mountain is a ski resort, but during summertime it is transformed into a mountain biking playground.

I spent the time on the ride up preparing myself mentally. I'm not an expert extreme bike rider, and I wasn't going on the most difficult trail; yet I knew this wasn't going to be some walk through the park. This was my second time riding down the mountain, and I had an understanding of how challenging it could be.

The major factor to keep in mind? Speed. The fastest I had gone was 38 mph, with an average of 26 mph. To some that might not seem scorching, but when you're going downhill on some rough and sometimes loose trails, it can really get your adrenaline going. You have to stay focused and make quick decisions, or you could put yourself in a bad situation.

Let's face it; falling off your bike at these speeds would not be a pleasant experience.

I made it about halfway down the 14-mile trail before I had a life-changing experience. The part of the trail I was on ran down along the side of the mountain. To the right of the trail was the mountain face, and to the left was a steep drop.

I had just finished making a right turn around a blind corner, when I saw a hard 90-degree left turn about 30 yards ahead. Toward the outer part of the turn, I noticed a puddle of mud.

Wanting to go around the puddle, and going too fast to make a sharp turn to the inside of it, I went high on the outside of the turn cutting close to the side of the mountain. Short brush grew where the trail met the mountain.

As I pedaled around the puddle and into the brush, my front tire washed out from under me, sending me flying over the handlebars.

I landed face first on the ground.

Stunned and still in shock from what occurred, I just rolled over and sat there for a few minutes. I could taste some blood, and my nose hurt a bit from being scraped along the ground.

My first clear thought was that my helmet had saved my life.

I was so grateful to have been wearing it and doing so correctly. I didn't always don a helmet, and sometimes I would let straps dangle instead of buckling them.

With this thought in mind, I slowly got back on my bike and finished out the ride.

On the way home I began to ask myself some pointed questions. Why would I ever ride without a helmet when there is always a threat of getting into an accident? Did I find the mountain to be more of a threat than city streets?

Actually, roads are no safer. In fact, 784 bicyclists died on U.S. roadways in 2005 alone. Ninety-two percent of them perished in crashes with motor vehicles. About 540,000 bicyclists visit emergency rooms with injuries every year.

In being part of an organization like the Air Force, safety is something that I hear about and practice on a day-to-day basis at work. As a supervisor, I'm responsible for holding others to the same standards.

So why would I not practice safety in my personal life?

All the possibilities for an accident still exist away from the workplace. My health and safety are still at risk. I guess I just needed an accident to literally help knock some sense into me.

I hope it doesn't take a harsh lesson to motivate you to evaluate the decisions you make and take the necessary safety precautions.