I took my mom mountain biking for her first (and now, last) time. We went on an easy - as someone said, “Rated G” - though somewhat long, trail. We were having a great time, and almost to the easy part. The trail is a loop that is uphill for about 7 miles and then very gently downhill for about 8 miles. We stopped to eat lunch at around the 6 mile mark. As we were eating, a couple in their mid 60s passed us, and we smiled and waved like we had been doing to everyone all day.
We finished eating and continued on, getting very close to the gentle, easy, slightly downhill section of the trail. As we rounded a corner we saw a young couple standing on the trail and a guy lying in the middle of it. My very first thought was “great place to take a break :rolleyes:,” and then almost immediately I thought “:smack:, he’s not taking a break, he probably has a sprained ankle or something.” I wish.
As we got to them and stopped our bikes, I saw that a woman (soon found out to be his wife) was leaning over his face giving mouth to mouth, and screaming in between “He’s not breathing, He doesn’t have a pulse.” The husband of the young couple who arrived there just before we did was on the phone to 911. He said they had arrived about 1 minute before, and the wife of the victim said the accident had been about 5 minutes before. Almost as soon as we arrived, a European guy showed up from the other direction and started giving CPR. His heart got going, but it would stop 2 more times before the helicopters got there.
The wife stuck with the mouth to mouth the entire ~90 minutes we waited for the first helicopter, and I’m ashamed to admit that I’m glad it was her and not me. His teeth were clenched and I think he had bit through his lip, because his mouth area was awful bloody (and so was hers - his blood), and I was afraid I was looking at a corpse. I hope I could’ve done it if no one else had been around. I think I could have. My mom monitored his pulse and I took my shirt off to lay over his legs. I felt so fucking helpless.
When the first helicopter arrived they got his heart stabilized and had the wife continue giving him breath with one of those squeeze bottles instead of mouth to mouth. It was another ~20 minutes before the medevac helicopter would arrive with more equipment and then another ~20 minutes before they would take off with him. I did what I could - get this, move that, hand me that, etc. I was (and am) awful worried about how much oxygen he was getting for the almost 2 hours before the medevac guys pried his mouth open and intubated him. Until that point I never saw his chest rise, only his stomach. He kept warm, and kept most of his color, besides some purpling of his fingertips, the whole time, so I guess that’s a good sign.
After the last helicopter took off, my mom and I, plus the young couple, plus another guy who had arrived shortly after us (the European left abruptly when the first helicopter landed), rode the remaining ~8 miles of the trail in silence, in the fading sunlight. I had time to think on this ride and realized that, after the guy who showed up 2 or 3 minutes after us, not a soul came along for over an hour and a half. We talked for awhile in the parking lot and took our time loading our bikes and gear before leaving. On the way out of the park we saw a sheriff’s deputy and he told us the gentleman had a broken neck and was still not conscious or breathing on his own.
We had hypothesized (and found out through discussion that the police and paramedics independently came up with the same hypothesis) that the guy had had a heart attack and fell off his bike. He was an experienced rider 64 years old, and didn’t have any defensive wounds. The abrasions on him were to the right side of his forehead, his right shoulder, and the backs of his hands. He had basically done a faceplant with his arms back, which made us think he was unconscious when it happened, but we were wrong. He was negative for a heart attack. It was just a freak, freak accident.
I came home and gave my wife a huge hug and told her how much I love her. I felt a profound sense of mortality yesterday and it hasn’t faded yet. I can’t stop thinking about this guy, and I even dreamed about him last night like I knew I would. I dreamed he coughed up some blood and gravel that freed his airway, and woke up, complaining that the paramedics had been too rough with him. It was a very happy dream in that I felt like he was ok, but I also kind of knew it was a dream; I knew I was fooling myself. He’s probably not ok. And like one of the guys on the scene said later, we barely have a right to be upset. We got to go home and hug our wives and have a drink and go to bed last night. This man’s poor wife was alone and scared in a hospital room with her husband on a ventilator, and her nightmare is probably just beginning.
Mountain biking has quickly become my favorite activity. I’ve done it 3 or 4 times a week minimum since August, and planned on it being part of my life, well, forever. Now I just feel sick thinking about that happening to anyone I care about. I feel sick thinking about it happening to this gentleman I don’t even know. I’m sure I’ll get back on the bike, but I need some time off to reflect. And I’m definitely taking a wilderness first aid course.