Moike
Shit Magnet
Ok, what I'm about to post right now is pretty fucked up, and
there are some nasty pictures attached. So consider yourself
forewarned. Also any spelling or grammatical errors will have
to be forgiven, I have vicodin in my system at the moment.
Today (July 4th) at just before Noon I was headed up Hwy 9
northbound just past the 236 Junction with some of my fellow
Vampires. I was riding my Ducati Monster, with Dillan on his
CBR behind me, Eric behind him on his Gix thou, Tim on the RSV
two stroke, and Barrett on the Triumph.
I'd just turned in to the fast lefthand sweeper with the gated
dirt driveway on the right where the CHP/Rangers like to park.
I glided through that, motored down the long flat open straight,
and then downshifted for the moderate blind righthand kink. I
slid through that, stood it up for the short straight before the
next righthand kink, gassed it, and then set my line for the
next turn. I rolled in, got on the gas, and started to exit
the righthander when I caught a split second image of a rock
about the size of my fist come flying out from the brush on the
shoulder of the road.
The rock impacted me in the bicep on my right arm with enough
force to rip my hand clean off the bar and throw it aroud behind
me like I was trying to touch the back of my left shoulder.
It twisted my upper torso violently to the right, and when it
did I saw someone or something up on the hillside.
I got my right hand back on the grip as quickly as it came off,
grabbed my upper right arm with my left hand, gave it a couple
quick shakes to see if there was any obvious crunch of broken
bones. There was no newly created joint from what I could tell.
Holding my upper right arm steady with my left hand I quickly
started braking and doing clutchless downshifts, keeping my focus
and looking at a perfect spot to pull over on the left hand side
of the road. Making sure it was clear to do so I pulled across
the double yellow and brought the bike to a stop on the shoulder.
Dillan had stopped about 50 yards further up the road at this
point and I started yelling that someone had thrown a rock
at me. I told him to call 911 and request CHP. Barret, Tim,
and Eric had got parked and over to me at this point. I asked
Eric to run down to where I got hit and see if he could see
anybody up on the trails on that side of the road.
I couldn't tell if my arm was broke, but every major joint in my
right arm... wrist, elbow, my already fucked up twice and surgically
rebuilt shoulder, started yelling at me and making their presence
known. I didn't pull my leathers off, and there were no puncture
or tear marks where the rock had hit me, but it was pretty obvious
I was bleeding under my leathers since it was oozing through the
kevlar panel a bit.
Eric didn't find anybody, but he did note that the hiking trail
ran right along Hwy 9 there, it gave a perfect vantage point up
the straightaway before the turn, and there were at least two
obvious avenues of escape to houses.
Officer Crouch showed up, as did a Ranger. I explained to them what
had happened, and they took notes. The FD and EMTs arrived just a
few minutes later and I stripped out of the upper part of my
Helimot 1pc for them. I had what looked like a bullet hole in my
right bicep surrounded by chunks of my own flesh and it was
bleeding pretty good. They washed it out patched me up, and did
the basic shock tests (do you know who you are? What year is it?)
The Ranger and Officer Crouch found the rock, which was a square bit
of slate about 3 inches by 3 inches by 2 inches... and had quite
a bit of heft to it. All the edges were very square, and sharp.
Info was taken, numbers were exchanged, I crawled back into my
bloody leathers and myself and the rest of the Vamps finished our
ride to Alice's to get some lunch. Fuck it if I was going to let
some jackass with a rock ruin my ride. (Stupid idea on retrospect
since I was bleeding much worse than I thought I was)
Given where on that section of Hwy 9 this rock hit me, and the
angle at which the rock was traveling when it impacted me, and
the movement I saw on the side of the road... It's pretty
obvious it was thrown by someone. I ride a loud Ducati, and I have
a Day-Glo Orange helmet. And I was the first bike in the group.
There's no cliff right there for it to bounce down, there's
excellent cover, and the vantage point allows a good view of Hwy
9 in either direction.
- If it had got me in the throat, or in the goggles I'd be dead.
- If I didn't ride with my body loose, or hold my grips like
they're uncooked eggs, or had not maintained my focus and
allowed myself to become a passenger instead of a pilot after
the rock impacted me... I'd have probably crashed and been really
injured or killed.
- If I didn't wear real honest to god leathers, with kevlar
panels, I might have lost my arm. Or at a minimum, been
lacerated real bad.
I wouldn't doubt if this is a copycat of the highwire act in the
Los Gatos hills not too long ago. I've been hearing stories about
incidents like this on Highway 9 for decades now... Tree branches
dragged out into the road, gravel, coolant, oil obviously poured in
the corners, rocks and other things thrown at motorcyclists,
I never thought I'd get to experience this particular brand of
disregard for human life firsthand. Especally given that I owned a
home in Boulder Creek for nearly 6 years, and got to know quite
a few of the mountain folk on a first name basis.
Sarah and I got back from the ER tonight at around 6:30. I had to get
stitched, X-Rays, a tetnus shot (which I hate), and the wound scrubbed
out (which it turns out is about a 1/2 inch deep). The ER on 4th of
July weekend is a lovely place.
Keep your eyes peeled my brothers, someone is out to do us real harm.
-Mike-
there are some nasty pictures attached. So consider yourself
forewarned. Also any spelling or grammatical errors will have
to be forgiven, I have vicodin in my system at the moment.
Today (July 4th) at just before Noon I was headed up Hwy 9
northbound just past the 236 Junction with some of my fellow
Vampires. I was riding my Ducati Monster, with Dillan on his
CBR behind me, Eric behind him on his Gix thou, Tim on the RSV
two stroke, and Barrett on the Triumph.
I'd just turned in to the fast lefthand sweeper with the gated
dirt driveway on the right where the CHP/Rangers like to park.
I glided through that, motored down the long flat open straight,
and then downshifted for the moderate blind righthand kink. I
slid through that, stood it up for the short straight before the
next righthand kink, gassed it, and then set my line for the
next turn. I rolled in, got on the gas, and started to exit
the righthander when I caught a split second image of a rock
about the size of my fist come flying out from the brush on the
shoulder of the road.
The rock impacted me in the bicep on my right arm with enough
force to rip my hand clean off the bar and throw it aroud behind
me like I was trying to touch the back of my left shoulder.
It twisted my upper torso violently to the right, and when it
did I saw someone or something up on the hillside.
I got my right hand back on the grip as quickly as it came off,
grabbed my upper right arm with my left hand, gave it a couple
quick shakes to see if there was any obvious crunch of broken
bones. There was no newly created joint from what I could tell.
Holding my upper right arm steady with my left hand I quickly
started braking and doing clutchless downshifts, keeping my focus
and looking at a perfect spot to pull over on the left hand side
of the road. Making sure it was clear to do so I pulled across
the double yellow and brought the bike to a stop on the shoulder.
Dillan had stopped about 50 yards further up the road at this
point and I started yelling that someone had thrown a rock
at me. I told him to call 911 and request CHP. Barret, Tim,
and Eric had got parked and over to me at this point. I asked
Eric to run down to where I got hit and see if he could see
anybody up on the trails on that side of the road.
I couldn't tell if my arm was broke, but every major joint in my
right arm... wrist, elbow, my already fucked up twice and surgically
rebuilt shoulder, started yelling at me and making their presence
known. I didn't pull my leathers off, and there were no puncture
or tear marks where the rock had hit me, but it was pretty obvious
I was bleeding under my leathers since it was oozing through the
kevlar panel a bit.
Eric didn't find anybody, but he did note that the hiking trail
ran right along Hwy 9 there, it gave a perfect vantage point up
the straightaway before the turn, and there were at least two
obvious avenues of escape to houses.
Officer Crouch showed up, as did a Ranger. I explained to them what
had happened, and they took notes. The FD and EMTs arrived just a
few minutes later and I stripped out of the upper part of my
Helimot 1pc for them. I had what looked like a bullet hole in my
right bicep surrounded by chunks of my own flesh and it was
bleeding pretty good. They washed it out patched me up, and did
the basic shock tests (do you know who you are? What year is it?)
The Ranger and Officer Crouch found the rock, which was a square bit
of slate about 3 inches by 3 inches by 2 inches... and had quite
a bit of heft to it. All the edges were very square, and sharp.
Info was taken, numbers were exchanged, I crawled back into my
bloody leathers and myself and the rest of the Vamps finished our
ride to Alice's to get some lunch. Fuck it if I was going to let
some jackass with a rock ruin my ride. (Stupid idea on retrospect
since I was bleeding much worse than I thought I was)
Given where on that section of Hwy 9 this rock hit me, and the
angle at which the rock was traveling when it impacted me, and
the movement I saw on the side of the road... It's pretty
obvious it was thrown by someone. I ride a loud Ducati, and I have
a Day-Glo Orange helmet. And I was the first bike in the group.
There's no cliff right there for it to bounce down, there's
excellent cover, and the vantage point allows a good view of Hwy
9 in either direction.
- If it had got me in the throat, or in the goggles I'd be dead.
- If I didn't ride with my body loose, or hold my grips like
they're uncooked eggs, or had not maintained my focus and
allowed myself to become a passenger instead of a pilot after
the rock impacted me... I'd have probably crashed and been really
injured or killed.
- If I didn't wear real honest to god leathers, with kevlar
panels, I might have lost my arm. Or at a minimum, been
lacerated real bad.
I wouldn't doubt if this is a copycat of the highwire act in the
Los Gatos hills not too long ago. I've been hearing stories about
incidents like this on Highway 9 for decades now... Tree branches
dragged out into the road, gravel, coolant, oil obviously poured in
the corners, rocks and other things thrown at motorcyclists,
I never thought I'd get to experience this particular brand of
disregard for human life firsthand. Especally given that I owned a
home in Boulder Creek for nearly 6 years, and got to know quite
a few of the mountain folk on a first name basis.
Sarah and I got back from the ER tonight at around 6:30. I had to get
stitched, X-Rays, a tetnus shot (which I hate), and the wound scrubbed
out (which it turns out is about a 1/2 inch deep). The ER on 4th of
July weekend is a lovely place.
Keep your eyes peeled my brothers, someone is out to do us real harm.
-Mike-
Last edited:
Thank goodness you are, for the most part, OK. Sounds like it hurt and good on you for having the skills not to wad that beauty of a bike into a little ball and ride it through.
