A ride that changed my life…..
Today, I really felt the need to share the essay that I wrote about the death of the cyclist on Oct. 1. Yesterday, Emily made me aware that much of what I'm going through about my own accident is really about Sam's death.
A ride that changed my life…..
Written by Elaine
I rode my bike with Sam Wolf for 45 minutes and it changed my life. What kind of impression will I leave on the people that I meet today? During the 45 minutes that I rode with him, I learned that he loved to ride, that he loved life, and that his friends loved and respected him.
The next 45 minutes he struggled valiantly to hang on to life…..
On Sunday, October 1, 2006, I attended the Great Pumpkin Metric. I was planning to ride the 100k course as a tune-up for the Hilly Hundred Weekend in Bloomington, IN the following weekend. I arrived and headed out on my own a bit early. I was trying to get back home as early as possible since I was feeling a bit of guilt for participating in such a long ride that was taking away from family time on the weekend.
I had ridden the first about 27 miles on my own. I’m a decent rider but no match for the more experienced riders. Several groups of fast riders had zoomed past me and I had no hopes of keeping up.
Sam was riding with two friends, Randy and Bob, and his group passed me shortly before the hill at Burdette Park. I had never met any of them before. They greeted me with, “It’s a beautiful morning for a ride!” As we began up the hill, I caught up with them. They were making their way up the hill slowly. Randy had encouraged them and easily zoomed his way to the top. Bob led with Sam on his wheel. I didn’t have the speed to pass them so I sat on Sam’s wheel and huffed and puffed up the hill. Sam joked with me saying that they were so old that they wouldn’t mind if I passed them, implying that younger guys might get a chip on their shoulder if a “chick” passed them on a hill, but that they wouldn’t. I replied that there was no way that I could pass them, that my lungs were burning and the only way that I was going to make it up the hill was if they continued to pull me up. As we continued to chug up the hill, I kept my eyes on Sam’s bright yellow jersey and my wheel on his wheel.
We made it up the hill and turned into the rest stop. We exchanged pleasantries and got nourishment. I got back on my bike and started to head out. The three of them were on their bikes but not quite ready to head out and said to me……”aren’t you going to wait for us?” I told that I wasn’t worried…that they would be catching back up to me in about a mile.
Sure enough, within a mile, they were back with me, but they didn’t pass me up this time. They encouraged me to stay with them. I had to pick up my pace a bit and did. I told them I wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace for long. The three of them were clearly good friends and rode together with ease. I felt a bit like an intruder into their riding group. But, when I started to drop off the back they encircled me and provided me with the benefit of a draft. We chatted. They teased me about my Alabama jersey and said that I didn’t sound like I was from Alabama, to which I hammed up a lovely Southern accent to prove myself. I thought that maybe I’d seen Sam out riding before because his full grayish moustache looked familiar, but we determined that we hadn’t ridden in the same areas.
For a time I rode with Bob and for a time I rode with Sam. I eventually got used to their pace and pulled off the front with Randy. Randy is younger than the other two and an accomplished triathlete and clearly capable of riding with the “Big Dogs.” We discussed triathlons and types of riding. When I asked Randy where he usually rode, he replied, “I ride with Sam.” I took this to mean that wherever Sam rode is where he rode too. He explained that he enjoyed the friendship with Sam and Bob and even though they were older than him that they had a great time together. He told me how they were part of a great group of friends who worked out at the Tri-State Athletic club. I was touched by the camaraderie that they had.
Soon, there was a turn off to the right for the rest stop at Creamery Road. I followed Randy into the turn, but Bob and Sam did not turn in after us. Randy saw that they had passed up the stop and suggested that we skip the rest stop and catch up with them. We turned around and headed off to catch them. We went up the hill and past a church and as we came down we saw the scene of the accident. Very quickly, Randy realized that it was Sam on the ground.
At this point we had been riding together for about 15 miles. It is 15 miles of riding that I will never forget. I wouldn’t have recognized any of them in regular clothes; I only knew them by their bikes, bike jerseys, and voices….but Sam stood out because of his moustache.
The accident had probably occurred about a minute before we arrived (news accounts say it happened at 10:54 am).
Sam was laying face down in the center of the side street and just a few feet into the main road. The vehicle that hit him was a yellow Jeep Wrangler. The passenger side of the windshield was smashed inward. It had been traveling South on St. Philip Road. Sam had been traveling north.
At the time of the accident, Bob was leading maybe 50 to 100 feet ahead of Sam. Randy and I were about a minute or two behind. Bob said that he did not see the accident but heard it. He said that by the time he got his head turned around that Sam was on the ground.
The driver was a young man dressed in sweatpants. He was very upset and said that he never saw Sam.
Randy and Bob were trying to contact Sam’s wife. However they only had his home phone number and there was no answer at the house. They did not have his wife’s cell phone number. I went to his bike which had been moved off the road and looked through his bike pack hoping to find some info.
A few minutes passed and the rescue truck came down to the scene. At this point a few more emergency personnel began to work with Sam.
I must have been in a state of shock. Because although Sam seemed very gravely hurt, it seemed to me that maybe his lungs were punctured and that this was something that could be taken care of. It seemed clear to me that he had been spared any head trauma. His most serious injury seemed to be blunt force trauma to his chest. I assumed that his ribs were cracked and had punctured his lungs.
Eventually an ambulance arrived. The two EMS personnel from the ambulance also began to work with Sam.
The Air Evac helicopter arrived and set down on the slope near the fire station to the South east of the scene of the accident. The Air Evac Ems personnel began to assist the others there.
They finally loaded him onto the Ambulance. I asked one of the first responders for an update. He said that they had not taken him by helicopter because they could not do CPR on the helicopter (because there is not enough room) if he should need it and they felt that he was very likely to need it again.
One of the Bicycle club members came over to us and was getting info and trying to arrange a ride for us back to the 4H grounds. He wanted Bob and Randy to think of any way that they could to get hold of Sam’s Wife. Bob knew where her parents lived. It was near the 4-H grounds. But he didn’t know their name or the exact address. It was decided that the sag wagon would drive us directly to the in-laws house to try to make contact with Sam’s wife and then to the 4-H grounds.
I remember taking in the entire scene at this time. Traffic had been stopped completely from both directions. To the South there was a large crowd of cyclists stopped and then a line of cars and to the north another line of cars. The rescue truck was to the south side of the intersection. The Yellow Jeep was to the North side of the intersection facing East. In the center of the intersection a pile of things left from the rescue efforts including Sam’s yellow jersey which had been cut off him. I noticed the black truck that Larry, one of the volunteer emergency responders had driven. It was in the west bound lane of the side street near the stop sign, directly in front of the yellow jeep. The driver’s family was standing in a group in the bank parking lot which is in the north east corner of the intersection. Our bikes and Sam’s bike were all lying in the grass between the curb and the bank parking lot. The sky was bright blue and clear and the sun was warm. It was the scene of a tragedy interrupting a bright and peaceful day.
We loaded the bikes and got into the truck. We drove for what seemed like forever. I leaned my head against the window and stared at the passing landscape not believing what had just transpired.
We finally reached the in-laws house. They were then able to contact Sam’s wife on the phone.
I firmly believe that Sam died doing what he loved and even in the short time that I knew him I saw what a wonderful person he was.
On Wednesday evening after the accident, I felt that I had to drive out to the scene of the accident. As I drove down the road toward the accident, I recognized the road. I remembered how we had all ridden together, chatting and laughing; not even considering what danger may lie ahead. We were all doing what we loved. Riding our bikes and enjoying one another’s company. I was a random interloper into this group of friends. It was an odd situation to be in….I was too involved to leave but not at all a part of the close friendship. I got a rare glimpse of what friendship is all about.
When I got to the intersection, I was overwhelmed. Someone had placed red roses in the grass next to the stop sign. But other than that the intersection looked peaceful with no trace of the tragedy that occurred.
There are a couple of things that I feel are important to learn from this tragedy. As cyclists, we must never assume what the motorists will do. And we must always have a phone number of a family contact with us.
I rode my bike again on Tuesday. At first I was apprehensive. I was afraid of the sound of cars. I quickly realized that my personal safety was not my worry, but I was afraid of seeing the scene of the accident in my mind and having it replay the life saving efforts and the feelings of grief that I felt as I realized that Sam may not make it. I eventually found that those thoughts would not overcome me and that I could still feel the joy and peace that I get when I cycle. I only knew Sam and rode with him for 45 minutes but I know in my heart that’s what Sam would want.
