An accident in search of Bundaberg Turtles

My time away from the working world was again running out & I had booked a flight back to Sydney 3 days after Fraser Island to get back on the job hunt. The plan was to take a couple of days to cycle up past Bundaberg to Mon Repos to see the turtles laying eggs on the beach, then roll back to Bundaberg the next morning, pack up the bike and jump on a plane back to the real world. I’d even found a bike shop in Bundy and confirmed that they had a bike box for me.

Back through the Great Sandy National Park

With all that in mind I set off from Rainbow beach after a predictably boozy send off and 3 hours sleep. I agreed to race my room-mates to Bundaberg; they all thought I was mad. The rain started as soon as I ducked out for breakfast and after waiting out the torrential downpour, I started back through the Great Sandy National Park in a heavy drizzle, passing wild horses (or “Brumbies”) casually grazing on the roadside. I got a toot from one of the Fraser Island guides as he sped past me in his pick up but otherwise it was a pretty uneventful day spent trying to suppress the terrible feeling of tiredness I had after 4 nights of little sleep. I pressed on to Childers in the hope of getting most of the miles done today to give me more time on the coast. After almost 100 miles in persistent drizzle I was shattered, but I still had to find somewhere to stay in a backwater fruit picking town, full of backpackers that were pretty much on their way to bed by the time I arrived ready to start their shifts at 5am the next day. After setting up camp in the rain I had just about enough energy to roll back into town and grab dinner, but as soon as my head hit the fleece that does for my pillow I was fast asleep.

  With few miles to go I allowed myself a lie in and headed back into town at 8:45am. I decided to jump off the truck heavy Bruce Highway and take back roads through to Bundaberg. Again it was drizzling and quite cool so for once I had my waterproof jacket on top of my bib shorts & singlet. The narrow back roads wound through farmland and then took a straight line across a vast floodplain. Unfortunately I wasn't the only one who liked the idea of back roads and there was quite a bit of traffic to add to a few farm vehicles going about their daily grind.

Helmets are awesome - Smashed at the front & back!

After about 25 miles of riding, I was more than halfway to the coast and maybe 10 miles shy of Bundaberg. Standing water covered the road and passing cars were kicking up a reasonable amount of spray – nothing unusual though. On a long straight stretch of road I saw a big truck headed towards me kicking up more spray and despite the very light drizzle I was happy to have my waterproof on. I quickly realized that I’d meet the truck at a narrow cut where the road bridged a small culvert. After 7,500 miles of riding I could tell what vehicle was approaching from behind and how long it would take for the to reach me by the sound of their engine approaching. Hearing a car coming from behind, I instantly knew that,, unless the car slowed down, it would also meet me in the narrow cut at the same time as the lorry, and as there was barely room for two cars, there’d certainly not be enough room for a lorry a car and me on my bike. I didn’t fancy being forced off into the ditch and gravel of the culvert so as I’d done many times before, I moved about a foot & a half into the road well in advance of the bridge to show there was not enough space and force the driver behind to slow down and let the lorry pass before overtaking. 10 seconds later I reach the culvert and get hit from the front by spray coming off the lorry, no worries there, but all of a sudden I feel something push at my back wheel from behind and, although hardly able to grasp it, realize the car behind has run straight into the back of me. Next thing I know I’ve skidded to a stop on the tarmac and I’m instinctively scrambling off the tarmac onto the gravel verge. From the shock & adrenaline I’m able to quickly assess the situation; I’ve in little pain but some stinging from heavy grazes on the front of both knees, I don’t appear to have been knocked out but my attention is quickly drawn a gaping hole behind my right knee where the skin has been sliced open revealing the inside of the joint. Having just scrambled off the road, I ignore the little voice in my head telling me not to move and quickly bend both legs to check they still work, thankfully they do and I wait expectantly for blood to start spurting out from the wound. Fortunately it doesn’t and I lie back down as the first drivers arrive on the scene to see what I look like.

At least Trevor came off unscathed

I’m able to speak to the drivers lucidly, and simply stare disbelieving at the back of my knee as a couple call for an ambulance and another covers my head with an umbrella. There were quite a few cars following the truck so I quickly draw a small crowd. I’m able to dispatch people to find my most important belongings that have been scattered all over the road by the impact. I’m told my bike is smashed up but can’t see it. The driver who hit me comes over and apologises, he’s shaken up too and appears quite sketchy but there’s nothing that can be done now; however, I’ve no idea what he was doing to not see me on a long straight road and literally drive straight into the back of me. A teenage girl of about 15 is standing close to me staring with terrified wide eyes and open mouth, so the accident and/or injuries must have looked spectacular, feeling concerned, I reassure her that I’ll be ok.

I might need a new back wheel!

The ambulance takes an age to arrive, probably about 15 minutes, and they waste no time in questioning me on my condition plus name, day of the week, location etc.. They take a little longer getting me into a neck brace and onto a body board, but my body’s still numb to most of the pain. As I’m being put in the ambulance the police arrive so I’m able to give them a statement and arrange for some council workers who stopped to take my bike into Bundaberg so I can collect it later (the police refused to take private property), my various bags were thrown in with me. The paramedic cuts me out od my cycling gear – my Spokeasy jersey is no more – and starts his various checks. With all the rain, and little clothing, I was cold and the few blankets in the ambulance were not enough to warm me up. As we approach the hospital I quiz the paramedic on my condition to check I'm likely to survive this one – my blood pressure is ok, there’s no visible damage to the interior of the knee (tendons, bones, blood vessels) and no signs of internal bleeding. To top it all, My heart rate’s down at 67 bpm, so all this cycling must be doing something for my fitness.

Into A&E I spend the next couple of hours staring at the ceiling with medics busying themselves around me. I get a spinal check including having to squeeze the doctor’s finger as it’s poked up my behind. The grazes on my knees are worse than I’d notices, there are some deep gashes about 5-10mm deep from gravel and they’re full of dirt so I’m put on an antibiotic drip and given some local anesthetic as the doctors try to scrape off the worst of it, but I’ll still need to go to theatre for a thorough clean up and stitching of my right knee. Eventually I’m rolled off to x-ray where a grumpy but funny American guy contorts my body in several awkward positions to take over 10 pictures which fortunately come back clear so shortly after I’m taken off the backboard and able to sit up and observe my surroundings. I realize that I must be ok as my thoughts stray from my injuries to whether there might be any cute nurses that might look after me!

Just a small graze on my left knee - you should have what the road looked like after!

After a couple of hours I‘m taken up to theatre where I turn down the offer on general anaesthetic and instead take the lower body epidural  to be administers by a “small” needle. As I’ll lose control of my lower body for a few hours it’s suggested I take a pee before I go in; I’m unable to pee sitting down so struggle to my feet for the first time since the collision creating a wave of pain and a few drops of blood on the hospital floor. Lucky I did though, I pass about a litre which would not have been pleasant later on.

Arriving in theatre I create a bit of panic as I almost pass out as they sit me up to give me the epidural (I’d not eaten or drunk since 9am and it was now around 4pm); some happy gas (oxygen I presume) and a glucose drip sort me out and the start injecting my back with anaesthetic ready for the “small” epidural needle. When it come’s it’s like a rod being forced into my spine and I’m convinced it left more of a bruise than most of the injuries from the accident. The epidural does a good job numbing my left leg, but my right leg, the one with the gaping hole in it, retains its feeling. After a protracted wait, they go with some extra local anesthetic so I can still fee them scraping around behind the curtain set up at my waist.

Still winning despite the injuries!

Soon enough everything’s stitched up and bandaged so the major drama is over. I’m wheeled out onto the ward and get my own TV, but predictably for Australia, nothing’s on. The nurses help me gather my stuff and I’m able to check through it for the first time and am reassured that everything important is there, including my phone, so I’m able to phone home to present them with the situation now that everything is ok. I’m still hooked up to a drip and repeatedly block the flow my moving my arm, sufficiently so for the nurse to show me how to restart it myself. I’ve also got a fancy bed that be angled all over the place, but curiously it appear to occasionally vibrate without warning. This happens a few times before I realize that it’s not the bed at all, it’s me farting, just I can’t feel enough around my backside to tell!

My Queensland Shark Bite!

My jacket must have helped me slide across the road...

The night was a little rough; dull pain all over my body meant that I could never get comfortable and hardly slept. In the morning I’m able to get up and walk around gingerly and start sorting through my stuff. Looking at the damage to various pieces of kit, I’m able to reconstruct what happened immediately after I was hit. The car hit my back wheel, smashing the rim into 5 pieces (this I found out later), tore the rear rack to pieces and sent my bags flying everywhere, but only irreparably damaging the bar bag. My helmet was smashed at the front and the back, suggesting I was thrown back into the windshield (apparently smashing it I later found out) and then either forward or over the top, hitting the front of my head on the road and obtaining a few grazes to my face. In addition to the cuts on my knees, I had a grazed hip, cut elbows and possibly a cracked or bruised rib; my jacket was shredded on the back and had holes at both wrists and elbows, lucky I was wearing it… Al this suggests that after I hit the tarmac I must have bounced, rolled and skidded to a halt on the road and effectively put on quite a show for anybody watching.

I had to dress my wounds every day or so, not exactly a chore I relished!

In the early afternoon I was released from hospital just in time to miss my flight so I checked into a motel right opposite the bike shop. The council guys kindly dropped my bike off that afternoon and I was able to take it straight into the shop to get an assessment of the damage. The back wheel was obviously smashed to pieces and the rack was no more. Additionally the front wheel was bent beyond repair, bit remarkably the Reynolds steel frame and other components had survived; turns out I really bought a hardcore touring bike. Several weeks later I would get the wheels rebuilt around the same hubs, replace the rack and ride off again along the Great Ocean Road. As for the turtles, stubborn as ever, I refused to be defeated and managed to talk my way onto the tour the next night. In significant pain I hobbled he mile into town in about 40 minutes and caught a bus to the coast on another wet and cold evening. At the Mon Repos turtle reserve I was welcomed as the guy who got hit by a car and settled down to wait for the action to start. A false alarm at around 11pm was followed by a long wait, so long I eventually fell asleep and waking with a start I managed to find out my group was on the beach and fortunately I was just about able to quickly hobble down to join them. What followed was definitely worth the effort – The turtle we were viewing was followed up the beach by 4 others within 50m of shoreline, all laying large clusters of eggs – 2 of them in locations where we had to relocate them. After laying, our turtle looked even more tired than me and took a nap on the beach. By this point I was really fading and fortunately the ranger hurried the turtle back to the ocean and I was able to make it back to the motel for about 4am, fortunately I was so tired I had no problems at all sleeping.

A leatherback turtle laying eggs at Mon Repos Sanctuary - made it all worthwhile

Fortunately, I came out of the accident none the worse except for some pretty impressive scars around my knees. I had the stitches out 10 days later, but the gashes on my left knee took 4 weeks to fill in and heal up and several months later I still have a funny looking knee and a scar that I’m claiming to be a shark bite I collected surfing in Australia. I was able to find some work almost as soon as I returned to Sydney and was moved across to Melbourne where I was able to get back in the pool and playing water polo as soon as the knee healed over. Shortly after I got the bike fixed up and started riding again, capping it all off with a 3 day ride down the Great Ocean Road to prove I was fully back. Looking back, I was certainly lucky, but the helmet probably saved me, so more than ever I’m an advocate for cyclists wearing helmets. As for drivers who drive straight into the back of cyclists on long straight roads, Ill leave you to imagine what I think of them!

Instead of doing all this cycling simply for fun I'm also raising money for the North Staffs Adventure Playground where my handicapped sister used to attend. They continue to do great work with handicapped and special needs kids and adults in the local area and woulld really benefit from any donations. Thanks to all those who have already sponsored me and contributed to the North Staffs Adventure Playground - I'm hoping to hit 1000 pounds so please donate using the following link:

http://www.justgiving.com/BigRedOnABike