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BROKEN BONE STORIES Send us your Broken Bone
Stories:
A
few years ago, some friends and I were camping with our families
at Gecko. As we were packing up to leave on Sunday afternoon, we
noticed a group of three or four guys hauling along about 200 yards
out past the camping area, just at the base of the dunes. All of
the sudden the guy in the rear of the pack (on a Honda 250R three
wheeler) was flying head over heals. The others, not realizing their
buddy had fallen, kept going. We immediately knew something was
wrong when he didn't get back up. I quickly ran out to him, and
I was almost surprised to see him moving, and trying to get up.
I asked him to lay still, and he cooperated. He was wearing a helmet,
but no riding boots, just tennis shoes. Too bad for him, because
had he been wearing boots, he may have walked away with a few bumps
and bruises. The foot peg had easily cut through his sweat pants
and his calf muscle. It appeared that the cut was clear to the bone,
from one side of his leg to the other, not to mention the puncture
wound on his thigh. I was surprised of the lack of bleeding considering
the severity. I had a friend bring a couple towels to cover the
wounds, and some water. Once his friends realized he was missing
back at their camp they came back to find him, and had someone from
his camp call 911. As we waited we talked a little. He was telling
me that they were taking one last short ride before heading home
themselves, so he thought he'd not wear his boots "just this once".
He stayed conscious until the Ranger (also a paramedic) arrived
about 20 minutes later. The last thing I heard was him telling the
man "You're really going to hate me for what I have to do to you
now". He had to clean the sand out of the wound, and prepare him
for transport. Ouch! That was my sign to leave. I couldn't stop
thinking about accident that all the way home, and every time I
see someone riding without boots. One
morning, while visiting the Sand Dunes of Glamis, CA, we decided
to go out on a "Short Ride." About 30 minutes into the
ride, a friend going about 35 mph. Hit an unexpected bump at the
bottom of a bowl, Jumping 15' into the air, he fell off with the
quad landing on him. He was out cold, and too injured to move. I
grabbed my GPS and entered our position.(32' 53.46 N/ 115' 04.59
W) The GPS showed our camp almost 5 miles away, I started heading
back to camp. When I got there, I wrote down the coordinates, and
called 911 for help. The 911 operator didn't know what to do with
the coordinates, and requested a cross-street....IN THE MIDDLE OF
THE DUNES! I knew the Rangers had GPS 's mounted in their Search
& Rescue Sand Rails So, My friends headed to the nearest Ranger
Station 3 miles away. When they got there, the Ranger pointed at
a huge map of Glamis and wanted to know where on the map the accident
was located, My friends looking at the huge map gave the Ranger
the coordinates, he entered the coordinates in his GPS and knew
exactly where the accident was. Help arrived quickly for my friend,
and he was transported to medical attention. The Ranger wished that
every riding group would have a GPS, He said it has taken
four hours
or more to find accident victims, even when
the guide "Knew their way back"
to an accident site. Easter at Glamis 1984: We arrived early afternoon on Friday before Easter Sunday, quickly set up camp and went on that first ride. Since it was the first ride the kids were anxious and clamoring to go. It was going to be a kids ride. I was on my 250r quad, and being a little anxious myself I ran through first and second rather quick, getting ahead of the little convoy that would take a few minutes to form up, I intended to slow down and putt along and wait for 'em. I shifted to third and slowed down a bit, ahead was flat and open, no other riders in sight, only 200 or so yards out of camp, I glanced over my shoulder to to see where my daughter was, sure enough she was ahead of the rest of them.... the next thing I knew I was waking up and my Brother-in Law was checking my vital signs. I felt myself and found a broken collar bone and my ribs hurt like hell. Later I went back where, as the kids tell me, my quad went end over end. Both front wheels hit squarely into a shallow rut that I didn't see because it was obscured by... well, whatever. How embarrassing... right in front of the kids. Both my pickup and my Brother-in-Laws motor home were still hitched up to our trailers, so he got this guy, Rick, who was camped next to us to haul me to Pioneer hospital in Brawley in the back of his pick up. Nice guy he gave me pillows and blankets to help make me comfy. X-rays showed 1 broken collar bone and 3 broken ribs, I hurt like hell. Next morning, I decided to try walking around. I could do that OK. I noticed that the Vacationeer camper that had pulled in next to us sometime during the night looked awful familiar, I kept looking at it and sure enough it was my old camper that I had sold the year previous. The guy I sold to had said that he went to Glamis, but I didn't think I would ever see him there. I then saw that my best buddy had arrived during the night and went to show him my clipped wing. He was talking to Rick, who had taken me to the hospital. He was surprised that my buddy knew me, he had been telling him about the idiot who ate some sand. Rick was a supplier/business associate of my buddy whom I had never met or heard of before. Then the guy who I sold my camper to came over and as it turned out He and Rick were good riding buddies!.... small world. I haven't broken any more bones since then, but my best buddy did leave some tire tracks on my backside one time over at El Mirage dry lake... it was embarrassing too. Can you say Orbital Hematoma?
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