It's very interesting to see an old thread of mine resurrected today: People in LA (don't) drive like assholes. The following month (March 30) I was hit by a left-turner as I was going through an intersection. He was waiting at the light and turned into me at the last instant. The bike was totaled. I got thrown 30 feet or more and ended up in the ER with a crushed foot and various bruises about my body. It was a classic SMIDSY (Sorry, Mate, I Didn't See You) scenario.
I spent twelve weeks on crutches as my shattered heel bone put itself back together (amazing, really) and the open wounds on my foot healed. I'm still limping, but improving steadily. If you're interested in the medical aspect, google "calcaneous fracture" and "fracture blister".
Some thoughts on the crash:
I should have figured that something was up when he was just sitting at the green light and not turning. I did slow down and I was already in the intersection when he hit the gas. I don't know what else I could have done about it, though, but I will be warier about this kind of thing in the future. BTW, the police officer who took the report said that the driver was 100 per cent at fault. Didn't make me hurt any less. Since there was no other traffic on the street, the sun was high in the sky, and visibility was perfect I think that he was doing something like adjusting his radio, looked up, saw a green light, and just punched it.
I remember the instant of impact, but only the sound. The next thing I knew I was waking up lying in the street and thinking, "I've got to get out of the street!"
I was wearing complete gear: full face helmet, armored jacket, armored pants, armored motorcycle boots, armored gloves. Every armored spot on my body (knees, elbows, shoulders, back, knuckles, feet) took a hit. I would have been much more severely injured had I not been geared up. Ironically, my helmet only had a small scrape on the back. Because it easily could have hidden damage, I've discarded it. Toreador Pants
For a while, I was 95 percent certain that I would choose not to ride again. Little by little, I started thinking about it. One reaction I had was "I want to decide when I stop riding, not have this guy take the decision away from me." Ultimately, I decided to ride again when my foot was strong enough.
I knew I was making the right decision (for me) when a woman at a party said, "You're not going to ride again are you?" "Actually, I am." -pause- "Well, good for you!"
Anyway, here it is six months later and I just rode my new (slightly used) MP3 400 home from Sherman Oaks Vespa (shout out to Drew Teague). I was concerned that my body might have a tough time getting on a bike again (I got the shakes one time before after a minor crash) but it felt absolutely natural - like I was home again.