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By Officer Don Hudson,
Los Angeles Police Department (CA)
"This ain't the way we planned
it..."
It was a warm beautiful California day in July
of 1996, no different than any other day. I had called three of my buddies,
Larry, Hank, and Marty, to see if they wanted to get together and do what
we do best: mountain bike. I had no idea that before this day was over, I
would end up in the emergency room.
We decided to do a well known Southern California
single track trail, Marshall Canyon. Once we had finished the 7 mile climb
to the top of the canyon, we were ready for some well deserved fun: the
white-knuckle downhill! Larry and I told Hank and Marty to go ahead and we
would catch them. After about 2 or 3 minutes of war stories, we decided to
give chase. Larry popped a wheelie, and over the side of the mountain he
went with me in close pursuit. You see, two weeks prior to this, I had just
placed 2nd in the California Police Summer Games Mountain Bike Downhill
Competition. I felt that I could do no wrong.
As we entered the steep sharp switchback sections,
we began to pour it on, for we hadn't seen Hank or Marty yet, and we weren't
about to let them beat us to the bottom. Suddenly Larry took a sharp left
turn onto a narrow trail and yelled, "short cut!" Though I was unfamiliar
with this trail, I was determined to catch Hank and Marty no matter what
it took. We were pushing the envelope at about 20 to 25 mph in very rough
terrain.
Then it happened. A rather large rock buried
in the dirt grabbed my front wheel, causing the handlebars to be jerked sharply
to the right. At this point, I felt the rear wheel coming over my head, and
there wasn't a thing I could do about it. As I went over the bar to "take
a soil sample," my left shoulder contacted the ground, and I started to slide.
I continued to slide on my left shoulder and side for approximately 30 ft.,
where I came to stop as I struck a tree. I started to get up, when I felt
a terrible pain in my neck and left shoulder area.
I looked around and realized everyone was gone.
I was experiencing so much pain I was content just laying there and waiting
to become a meal for a mountain lion: I really didn't want to move. After
a couple of minutes, Larry showed up and asked, "are you alright, Bro?" As
I laid there on the wet dirt, I knew I wasn't ok. But I was sure glad someone
had come back for me.
At this point, Larry talked me into getting up
and start walking, supporting my left arm with my right. Two hours later,
we had walked out of those mountains. At the emergency room, the diagnosis
was a broken collarbone, dislocated shoulder, and extensive tendon damage.
As I look back, I think of all the years I spent training alone in the mountains,
and how many times I was pushing it.
As a result of this accident, I learned a few
things I would like to share with you: NEVER ride alone when riding in the
mountains. Always wear a helmet, only push the envelope when there is money
or trophies on the line, and last but not least, know your limits. Thanks
again for being there, Larry. I owe you one, Bro. Oh, I almost forgot: Hank
and Marty finally won one!
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