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Outdoor Life: Accident time
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Anonymous user Tue Oct 3, 2006 10:53:26 PDT
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0 responses 0 comments After my last column was edited and published, I realized that several loose ends needed to be tied up regarding the off-roading accident I referred to. Here are some of the details:
It was a dark and stormy night. Never mind, just kidding. Don’t want a copywrite attorney sending me a letter. I’ve changed names of the riders so as not to cause them any more pain than they’ve already experienced.
We were on the last leg of a short morning ride on our way back to our transport vehicles. One of my friend’s motorcycles was being hauled in the bed of Cheryl’s Polaris Ranger after the bike suffered engine failure. The ride had started early, with all of us meeting at a predetermined spot a 6:30 a.m. for the final trip to the staging area.
It was forecast to be about 100 degrees that day, and at 10:45 a.m. we were about one mile from our pickups where we would load up for the trip back home.  Along on this off-road excursion were dirt bikes, quads, SUVs, Jeeps and Cheryl’s Ranger.
The ride had been pretty uneventful and had included several stops along the way to enjoy scenic vistas. As I rounded a curve on the dirt road, I noticed Bob ahead of me walking around in the middle of the road with his helmet off.
“Why is he taking a break? We were just going to head to the trucks and leave,” I thought.
As I got closer and turned off my engine, Bob said, “This is a bad scene, Dick. There’s some guys pretty messed up (he used a different word than messed),” pointing down a ravine off the side of the road. I looked down and saw three quads and two riders strewn amongst the large boulders. “Yikes!” I said (but I didn’t use the word yikes).
Bob was the first one over the side and took his helmet off while assessing the injuries of the other riders, then climbed back up the roadway to flag us down.
As the other members of our caravan started pulling up to this carnage, people were jumping into action, checking for injuries and comforting those hurting. We figured out that in spite of the tortoise-like speeds they were traveling at, the quad riders experienced what cars sometimes do when encountering black ice on paved roads.
The dirt road was packed hard like concrete with a layer of loose gravel on top — much like driving on a road with ball bearings under your tires. One by one and about 30 seconds apart, the quads and their riders left the roadway and careened down the boulder-strewn ravine. Applying their brakes stopped the tires, but the tires couldn’t grip the road.
Fortunately, several of our riders had emergency medical technician training, which really helped during this crisis. Someone with GPS and a cell phone called in the accident to the dispatcher after climbing a small hill to gain cell reception. Within minutes we could hear the sound of an approaching medevac helicopter.
It was first thought that we would evacuate the most seriously injured rider via helicopter and the others by ground ambulance, but due to the remoteness it was decided to fly out all three.
My son, Max, rode about seven miles to the highway to meet the en route fire department paramedics in order to guide them in on the shortest route. The injured riders were transported by air ambulance to a Bakersfield hospital. We finally got home about 5 p.m. after helping to get the injured riders’ vehicles home.
After about four days in the hospital, everyone was released. The list of injuries included severe bruising and scrapes, a spinal compression fracture, a punctured lung and hurt pride. I’m glad they survived to ride another day.
Happy Trails!

E-mail Dick at: rdtusmc@msn.com

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