ScottRNelson
Adventure and Dual Sport
Five years ago today I crashed. At the time, I was leading a group ride on Mines Road that had come from Livermore. We had made it to The Junction where Mines Road ends and splits off, gone 26 miles down into Patterson for gas, and were almost back to our lunch stop at The Junction once gain. We had ridden about 100 miles at this point and had plans for at least 50 or 60 more.
The 1997 Ducati Monster was working excellent, having recently had the forks revalved. All my lines through the corners felt good and I was having a great ride. But I must have been thinking about lunch a few minutes further up the road or something, because when I came to the cattle guard crossing I hadn't even considered it to be even a minor hazard. The road is almost straight there, but not quite. This particular cattle guard has a bump on the far side that is maybe in inch or inch and a half in height. The bike was turning just a tiny bit and I'm sure I didn't have a real firm grip on the bars.
In any case, my speculation on what exactly happened is that when I went over the cattle guard, my speed was enough that the small bump bounced the front tire off of the ground a little bit and because I was in a slight turn, the countersteering pressure cause the front wheel to turn a slight amount while it was still in the air. When it touched back down, it was no longer perfectly lined up with the direction of travel and tried to quickly correct itself, overshooting and turning into a violent tankslapper.
If you don't know what a tankslapper is, watch this video. Mine was exactly like that, except that there was no gradual starting point like the rider of the black bike, my bars were going full lock back and forth from the beginning. It is a very violent thing.
http://s25.photobucket.com/albums/c...tion=view¤t=Isle_of_Man_tankslapper.flv
What I experienced as a rider was something like this: "I wonder if I should have a hamburger or a grilled chicken sandwich for lunch?" Wham! "Oh wow, I'm not going to save this." The next thing I knew I was on my face in the middle of the road trying to figure out where my bike had ended up.
Here is a photo of the cattle guard that caused me so much trouble and some of the marks on the road made by the bike. You can visualize where the bike ended up, in the ditch on the left where the firemen are checking me out. (Someone let the volunteer firemen know that there was another motorcycle crash and they came to check out if I needed an ambulance or anything. When they determined that I was going to survive, they headed back.)
I got to my feet immediately and it didn't take too long to figure out that something was wrong with my left hand. I had broken the bone in my hand connected to my ring finger and dislocated my thumb in TWO places. The thumb was the much bigger problem.
I immediately removed my riding gear; helmet, gloves, riding pants and leather jacket with the help of another rider. Upon first inspecting the bike I was still trying to figure out if it could be repaired enough with duct tape and bailing wire to ride it back home. I had already helped three other riders do that earlier in the year due to various other "minor" crashes.
As we were picking up various pieces of the bike, it soon became obvious that nobody was going to be riding it back. This is what it looked like, with the tank put back where it belongs:
Although the right side of the tank was all smashed and scraped, the left side was still perfect. Norm Brown in North Carolina eventually pounded it back out and used the tank on a project bike.
You can see that the rear of the frame is bent, but there was no other frame damage at all and no scrapes anywhere on the frame. That frame also ended up being used on a Norm Brown project bike.
The guys I was riding with found most of the pieces of the bike that had been torn off during the crash and piled them by the bike, next to my "used up" riding gear.
I found it amazing that the footpegs and exhaust pipes had been torn off of BOTH sides of the bike, but there were no scratches anywhere on the engine either. There was a small scrape at the bottom of one fork leg, and the front wheel was gouged and slightly bent, but much of the bike survived in pretty good shape.
My helmet clearly did its job of protecting my head, and this is why I won't wear anything but a full face helmet when I ride a motorcycle. You can imagine what would have happened with any style of open face helmet.
The leather jacket that I was wearing did a wonderful job of protecting me while sliding on the road and only looks a little scuffed up, although all three of the plastic zippers in the front were destroyed. I still have it and still consider getting the zippers replaced so that I can use it once in a while.
The First Gear textile riding pants that I was wearing over my Levi's jeans didn't do nearly as good of a job of protecting me. I had about four square inches of road rash at the top of my left leg from where it all wore through, plus about another square inch on my knee. This is why I wear leather pants on all serious rides now.
Okay, that's it for the crash photos.
A local rancher drove me the mile and a half to The Junction restaurant and most of the people who had been riding with me came up there. I had to beg some Ibuprofen from somebody and borrow a cell phone to arrange transportation for me and the bike back to Pleasanton. Just getting a signal was difficult up there in the hills.
As with the only other time I ever crashed a motorcycle out in the hills, my wife was out of town at the time, so I called my friend Dave. He had a Dodge truck and everything needed to haul his dirt bikes, and he was willing to drive 50 miles to come rescue me. I'm thankful for good friends like that.
One of the guys I was riding with made a splint for me out of a rolled up newspaper and some duct tape to immobilize my left hand. At this point I was very thankful to have friends along with me on the ride. I know that I really dislike being on rides where people crash, and I've seriously reduced the number of group rides that I go on with people I don't know, but it sure makes a difference having friends with you if you're the one who crashed.
When Dave finally arrived with the truck, I got in with him, we headed back down Del Puerto Canyon Road, and he and some of the other riders loaded the bike into the truck along with all of the loose stuff. The bike had already been marked with a tag indicating that it needed to be moved within 72 hours or it would be towed. I spent the rest of the trip back to Pleasanton keeping my left hand elevated.
Dave dropped me off at the local emergency room and left me there because he had to keep another appointment. The bike and stuff stayed in his truck until the following evening. After several hours getting X-rays, getting my thumb joints pulled back into place, and getting a cast installed, I called Dave's wife to haul me back home from the emergency room.
The rest of the weekend was rather unenjoyable with me discovering other parts of my body that didn't feel too good, plus having to call my wife and explained that I had crashed the motorcycle. At one point I layed down on the floor while watching television and found it nearly impossible to get back up again. I guess hitting the road at 60 mph stretches a few muscles in unnatural ways.
Sunday night I arranged for other friends to come over and help unload the bike into my garage. It had leaked some gas into the back of the truck, so we drained most of it into a gas can, then I stored the tank at an angle to prevent any more from coming out in my garage. A few days later, after contacting the insurance company, Dave helped me haul the remains of the bike to the closest Ducati mechanic, where the bike was pronounced totalled. I ended up taking the insurance payout, but buying back the bike, then parted it out over the next few months. That was the only way I could get the "true value" of the bike.
Some people would give up riding motorcycles after a crash like this, but I had already determined that I love riding motorcycles more than just about anything else, and was looking for a replacement bike before I even had the cast removed. I had hoped to get another Ducati Monster, but for some reason settled on a less expensive ST2 with a salvage title. My plan was to keep that for a short time, then sell it and buy another Monster. I eventually took at least eight Monsters on test rides before I determined that I actually preferred to ride the ST2, so that's what I'm still riding.
When I bought the ST2, I had the cast off of my hand, but couldn't squeeze the clutch lever, even once. I arranged for the owner to deliver it to my house, we went to the bank to handle all of the paperwork, then I drove him back home.
Riding the ST2 was used as therapy for my left hand over the next few months. The first ride was around the block. Soon I was able to ride it for about ten minutes before my hand became too weak to work the clutch. Little by little I was able to take longer rides until I eventually recovered full strength and flexibility in my hand. It took about 1000 miles of riding over the next few months before I felt as comfortable and confident on the ST2 as I had on the Monster.
When the cast came off, I couldn't even touch my thumb and index finger. The goal of my physical therapy over the next few weeks was to be able to touch the end of my little finger with my thumb. It was months before I could touch the base of my little finger with the end of my thumb and eventually I reached full flexibility and was able to touch about an inch below the base of my little finger. Five years later I can still feel a tiny bit of stiffness in my left thumb.
After all of this, my emphasis while riding a motorcycle became much more directed towards safe riding. I purchased and read all of the David L. Hough books, plus Lee Parks and Keith Code. I also became a regular at msgroup.org to help maintain the safe riding emphasis. I ride just as fast as I did before, but pay much more attention to the potential road hazards everywhere. I'm also more of a fanatic about wearing proper gear.
In honor of making it five years without crashing again, laying down a bike, or even having any close calls, I'm leaving both bikes parked in the garage for the day. (The real reason they'll stay there is that today is the first rain in six months and I don't even want to take a car out on those slick roads.)
It took me many months to figure out what really happened in this crash. I posted an article on a number of forums entitled "I crashed and I don't know what I did wrong". That helped me pick up a lot of theories, and there were a surprising number of different theories on the subject. I'm certain that if the bike had had a steering damper, I would have only experienced a bit of head shake and I might still be riding that Monster today. I'm pretty sure that if I had had a better grip on the bars and been prepared for the cattle guard, I wouldn't have had any problems either. I later went back there after about a year and ran across the cattle guard a few times on my ST2, and I believe that if I had slowed down to even 50 mph I wouldn't have crashed. I have a much greater respect for cattle guards now.
If you've read this whole thing, thanks for your time. I hope it has helped you understand the crashing experience without having to go through it yourself. I also hope it helps people understand the value of proper gear and how you really can't predict when a motorcycle crash is going to occur. It had been 16 years since the previous one, which I was expecting to be "my last crash". I don't ever want to go through the crashing experience again, but I remain prepared for it. In addition to proper riding gear, I keep a bunch of first aid supplies in my hard bag in case they're needed someday.
Ride safely out there.
The 1997 Ducati Monster was working excellent, having recently had the forks revalved. All my lines through the corners felt good and I was having a great ride. But I must have been thinking about lunch a few minutes further up the road or something, because when I came to the cattle guard crossing I hadn't even considered it to be even a minor hazard. The road is almost straight there, but not quite. This particular cattle guard has a bump on the far side that is maybe in inch or inch and a half in height. The bike was turning just a tiny bit and I'm sure I didn't have a real firm grip on the bars.
In any case, my speculation on what exactly happened is that when I went over the cattle guard, my speed was enough that the small bump bounced the front tire off of the ground a little bit and because I was in a slight turn, the countersteering pressure cause the front wheel to turn a slight amount while it was still in the air. When it touched back down, it was no longer perfectly lined up with the direction of travel and tried to quickly correct itself, overshooting and turning into a violent tankslapper.
If you don't know what a tankslapper is, watch this video. Mine was exactly like that, except that there was no gradual starting point like the rider of the black bike, my bars were going full lock back and forth from the beginning. It is a very violent thing.
http://s25.photobucket.com/albums/c...tion=view¤t=Isle_of_Man_tankslapper.flv
What I experienced as a rider was something like this: "I wonder if I should have a hamburger or a grilled chicken sandwich for lunch?" Wham! "Oh wow, I'm not going to save this." The next thing I knew I was on my face in the middle of the road trying to figure out where my bike had ended up.
Here is a photo of the cattle guard that caused me so much trouble and some of the marks on the road made by the bike. You can visualize where the bike ended up, in the ditch on the left where the firemen are checking me out. (Someone let the volunteer firemen know that there was another motorcycle crash and they came to check out if I needed an ambulance or anything. When they determined that I was going to survive, they headed back.)
I got to my feet immediately and it didn't take too long to figure out that something was wrong with my left hand. I had broken the bone in my hand connected to my ring finger and dislocated my thumb in TWO places. The thumb was the much bigger problem.
I immediately removed my riding gear; helmet, gloves, riding pants and leather jacket with the help of another rider. Upon first inspecting the bike I was still trying to figure out if it could be repaired enough with duct tape and bailing wire to ride it back home. I had already helped three other riders do that earlier in the year due to various other "minor" crashes.
As we were picking up various pieces of the bike, it soon became obvious that nobody was going to be riding it back. This is what it looked like, with the tank put back where it belongs:
Although the right side of the tank was all smashed and scraped, the left side was still perfect. Norm Brown in North Carolina eventually pounded it back out and used the tank on a project bike.
You can see that the rear of the frame is bent, but there was no other frame damage at all and no scrapes anywhere on the frame. That frame also ended up being used on a Norm Brown project bike.
The guys I was riding with found most of the pieces of the bike that had been torn off during the crash and piled them by the bike, next to my "used up" riding gear.
I found it amazing that the footpegs and exhaust pipes had been torn off of BOTH sides of the bike, but there were no scratches anywhere on the engine either. There was a small scrape at the bottom of one fork leg, and the front wheel was gouged and slightly bent, but much of the bike survived in pretty good shape.
My helmet clearly did its job of protecting my head, and this is why I won't wear anything but a full face helmet when I ride a motorcycle. You can imagine what would have happened with any style of open face helmet.
The leather jacket that I was wearing did a wonderful job of protecting me while sliding on the road and only looks a little scuffed up, although all three of the plastic zippers in the front were destroyed. I still have it and still consider getting the zippers replaced so that I can use it once in a while.
The First Gear textile riding pants that I was wearing over my Levi's jeans didn't do nearly as good of a job of protecting me. I had about four square inches of road rash at the top of my left leg from where it all wore through, plus about another square inch on my knee. This is why I wear leather pants on all serious rides now.
Okay, that's it for the crash photos.
A local rancher drove me the mile and a half to The Junction restaurant and most of the people who had been riding with me came up there. I had to beg some Ibuprofen from somebody and borrow a cell phone to arrange transportation for me and the bike back to Pleasanton. Just getting a signal was difficult up there in the hills.
As with the only other time I ever crashed a motorcycle out in the hills, my wife was out of town at the time, so I called my friend Dave. He had a Dodge truck and everything needed to haul his dirt bikes, and he was willing to drive 50 miles to come rescue me. I'm thankful for good friends like that.
One of the guys I was riding with made a splint for me out of a rolled up newspaper and some duct tape to immobilize my left hand. At this point I was very thankful to have friends along with me on the ride. I know that I really dislike being on rides where people crash, and I've seriously reduced the number of group rides that I go on with people I don't know, but it sure makes a difference having friends with you if you're the one who crashed.
When Dave finally arrived with the truck, I got in with him, we headed back down Del Puerto Canyon Road, and he and some of the other riders loaded the bike into the truck along with all of the loose stuff. The bike had already been marked with a tag indicating that it needed to be moved within 72 hours or it would be towed. I spent the rest of the trip back to Pleasanton keeping my left hand elevated.
Dave dropped me off at the local emergency room and left me there because he had to keep another appointment. The bike and stuff stayed in his truck until the following evening. After several hours getting X-rays, getting my thumb joints pulled back into place, and getting a cast installed, I called Dave's wife to haul me back home from the emergency room.
The rest of the weekend was rather unenjoyable with me discovering other parts of my body that didn't feel too good, plus having to call my wife and explained that I had crashed the motorcycle. At one point I layed down on the floor while watching television and found it nearly impossible to get back up again. I guess hitting the road at 60 mph stretches a few muscles in unnatural ways.
Sunday night I arranged for other friends to come over and help unload the bike into my garage. It had leaked some gas into the back of the truck, so we drained most of it into a gas can, then I stored the tank at an angle to prevent any more from coming out in my garage. A few days later, after contacting the insurance company, Dave helped me haul the remains of the bike to the closest Ducati mechanic, where the bike was pronounced totalled. I ended up taking the insurance payout, but buying back the bike, then parted it out over the next few months. That was the only way I could get the "true value" of the bike.
Some people would give up riding motorcycles after a crash like this, but I had already determined that I love riding motorcycles more than just about anything else, and was looking for a replacement bike before I even had the cast removed. I had hoped to get another Ducati Monster, but for some reason settled on a less expensive ST2 with a salvage title. My plan was to keep that for a short time, then sell it and buy another Monster. I eventually took at least eight Monsters on test rides before I determined that I actually preferred to ride the ST2, so that's what I'm still riding.
When I bought the ST2, I had the cast off of my hand, but couldn't squeeze the clutch lever, even once. I arranged for the owner to deliver it to my house, we went to the bank to handle all of the paperwork, then I drove him back home.
Riding the ST2 was used as therapy for my left hand over the next few months. The first ride was around the block. Soon I was able to ride it for about ten minutes before my hand became too weak to work the clutch. Little by little I was able to take longer rides until I eventually recovered full strength and flexibility in my hand. It took about 1000 miles of riding over the next few months before I felt as comfortable and confident on the ST2 as I had on the Monster.
When the cast came off, I couldn't even touch my thumb and index finger. The goal of my physical therapy over the next few weeks was to be able to touch the end of my little finger with my thumb. It was months before I could touch the base of my little finger with the end of my thumb and eventually I reached full flexibility and was able to touch about an inch below the base of my little finger. Five years later I can still feel a tiny bit of stiffness in my left thumb.
After all of this, my emphasis while riding a motorcycle became much more directed towards safe riding. I purchased and read all of the David L. Hough books, plus Lee Parks and Keith Code. I also became a regular at msgroup.org to help maintain the safe riding emphasis. I ride just as fast as I did before, but pay much more attention to the potential road hazards everywhere. I'm also more of a fanatic about wearing proper gear.
In honor of making it five years without crashing again, laying down a bike, or even having any close calls, I'm leaving both bikes parked in the garage for the day. (The real reason they'll stay there is that today is the first rain in six months and I don't even want to take a car out on those slick roads.)
It took me many months to figure out what really happened in this crash. I posted an article on a number of forums entitled "I crashed and I don't know what I did wrong". That helped me pick up a lot of theories, and there were a surprising number of different theories on the subject. I'm certain that if the bike had had a steering damper, I would have only experienced a bit of head shake and I might still be riding that Monster today. I'm pretty sure that if I had had a better grip on the bars and been prepared for the cattle guard, I wouldn't have had any problems either. I later went back there after about a year and ran across the cattle guard a few times on my ST2, and I believe that if I had slowed down to even 50 mph I wouldn't have crashed. I have a much greater respect for cattle guards now.
If you've read this whole thing, thanks for your time. I hope it has helped you understand the crashing experience without having to go through it yourself. I also hope it helps people understand the value of proper gear and how you really can't predict when a motorcycle crash is going to occur. It had been 16 years since the previous one, which I was expecting to be "my last crash". I don't ever want to go through the crashing experience again, but I remain prepared for it. In addition to proper riding gear, I keep a bunch of first aid supplies in my hard bag in case they're needed someday.
Ride safely out there.
Here's to 5 more crash-free years to you!!! 
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