Thursday, May 7, 2009

Cinco De Mayo Dos Teeth - Breaking Teeth On Bikes

Rest assured you will not lose your front teeth in a bike wreck.  Things happen in threes, almost to the point of being freaky for me.  Tuesday, Adam was the third of my friends to lose teeth in a bike wreck. 


The first of my friends to eat it was Heather, a college friend from UW Platteville.  She cut her teeth (always wanted to say that line from Lassie) popping a small mid-campus wheelie to get over a curb.  Sorry no photo.  We didn't have digital cameras back then kiddies.  The front wheel fell out of the drops.  Yeah.  Yikers.  I can only imagine the moment when she saw her fork in the air and the wheel wobbling its way to the ground.  Think Reservoir Dogs.  Looking back, it was the early 90’s.  Maybe that incident was responsible for the lawyer tabs on quick release forks.  It was horrible, the kind of horrible that can only happen to a pretty young girl in her early 20’s.  The word disfigurement ran through the rumor mill.  A visit to the cosmetic surgeon to fix her chin and yada yada yada she was back with a spectacular set of new choppers.  On the bright Beverly Hills side, I actually think she looked better!


Just weeks ago, THIS GUY, my buddy Jimmy lost half of his front toofers when the wooden slats of a covered bridge deck grabbed his front tire.  While Heather had lost some chin skin, the complete force of Jimmy’s blow came to his teeth.  The more I hear about teeth only injuries, they don’t seem to hurt, at least if you break them off before the nerve.  Ewww.  I just got a heebie jeebie shake down my left leg.  Jimmy peeled himself off the bridge deck, put the two while chips in his jersey pocket and rode the 20 miles home like a champ, taking long pulls and posing for pictures.  The complete story is here.


The last of my friends ever to loose their teeth in a bike wreck is Adam.  I think I like him because he sorta looks insane, is a titch quirky, but is really quite down to earth.  Here’s the edited first person account of how Adam ate it and left his teef in a ditch along the mountain bike trails at East Fork State Park in Ohio.

So there I was, in the middle of a perfectly enjoyable mid-week ride with Charlie, Sherry, and Billy.  Dry trail, sun shining, riding was a blast.  It was hard to get much better.  (Only if animated blue Disney birdies were singing and flying around his head) 

Chit-chatting at cruising speed, we had just finished a lap of Phase1 (East Fork has yet to come up with clever names for trails) and started our second lap (Phase 2 I assume, leave a comment if not.)  I brought up the rear of the strung out trail pace-line as we approached a wooden plank bridge corner that I've ridden thousands of times.  As I roll around the corner, so rolls my front tire.  My front end comes to a dead stop with my face forcefully kissing my headset (pretty sure he means stem.)  I endo and, to literally add insult to injury, I fall sideways into the ditch crossed by the bridge. 

(At this point I imagine him struggling on the ground like a snake that was just stepped on by a pro wrestler.)  I propped myself up onto my elbows and unclipped my left foot from my pedal.  I held out my hand and spit the contents of my mouth into my palm.  Like a prospector sluicing for gold, I thumb over a dozen tiny white splinters that used to be my two front teeth. 

Of course I wasn't carrying any air. (For that flat rolled tubeless tire which humorously is his biggest concern at this moment.)  So I shouldered my rig and hiked back to the parking lot. There was no way I was just going to leave and not show Charlie or Bill my ridiculous face (and hair, photo above).   Keep in mind that it was Cinco de Mayo.  So I change my clothes, grabbed a pre-packed Corona, sat on the roof of my Xterra, and played synthesizer until they roll back. 

Footnote:  I had no idea Adam is one of THOSE GUYS who carry around a synthesizer in their cars in case of a lonely moment.  I apologize and at this moment disown him.  Then again, looking at the photo of his pencil troll doll hair and missing teeth, I’m so glad a park ranger didn’t come through the lot and mistake him for a creepy local weirdo.


Adam said...

Dude, thanks for the interest in my story, but WTF why so much bad Karma? "Either way, ride by yourself tonight." "I apologize and disown him." I do not appreciate your nay-saying. Blog fodder knows no friends. I'm gunno go cry and eat a whole bag of Doritos. I hope you're happy.

Joe Biker said...

I love you man, but just keep that synthesizer to yourself!

James Billiter said...

Dude, if I only had a synthesizer after my tooth cracked. It keeps your mind off the dental bill (I always stressfully assume that a visit to the dentist will cost $1500 – but it was like $30 thanks to dental insurance).

I would have played "Rock me Amadeus" and sucked back my tears.