I Had a bit of an adventure on a company sponsored whitewater rafting trip yesterday. We were pulling through a Class IV rapid when a coworker was dislodged and slammed into me kicking me out of the raft. The last thing he saw of me for a little while was my foot disappearing underwater.
I was sucked under and drug along the bottom of the river slamming into rocks like a meaty pinball. The river kicked me up just long enough to get some air and show me what was in store next: A huge fucking boulder. Sucked back under and slammed into the boulder wile-e-coyote style. I was peeled off and banged around a bit more before I surfaced long enough to swim to a nearby raft.
My ribs were banged up pretty bad, and I felt like one of my lungs wasnt cooperating. Oh, and my glasses were long gone.
We went down the river a couple more miles until there was a place where we could pull over and get me out. They sent a guide ahead to try to find a bus to come pick me up, so I hiked after her figuring we'd just meet in the middle. I start walking up the dirt road and my camelbak is empty within the first 50 feet. It's 105 out. Balls.
A 3.5 mile hike uphill in the canyon later and I reached the staging point for the 'take out' buses just as one was leaving to come get me. I think I was looking pretty sorry at that point: Hunched over, gasping, blinking owlishly trying to make out anything around me, and feet rubbed raw and bleeding from hiking up that trail.
From there I made it back to my bike, where a coworker loaned me a pair of glasses that were almost, but not quite, entirely not my prescription. They were enough to get me home, but I was blind as hell.
Unfortunately I took the R1 that morning, so the ride home was pretty uncomfortable. Since I couldn't see too well I managed to hit every damn pothole out on 80, 99, 4, 5, 205, 580, 680, mission blvd, 880, and 17.
I made it home on the R1, put some contacts in, jumped on the fz6 and rode to dominican to get checked out.
As the fz6 was warming up I responded to a SMS Sarah had sent me earlier in the day mentioning that I was going to the ER to get checked out for some busted ribs. I barely get checked in and the fucking Calvary rolls in the rescue:
Jon rode my FZ home for me and Seric gave me a lift. Sarah kept me sane.
Thanks all of you, I fucking love this club.
Oh, and no broken ribs. Bunch of soft tissue damage and it looks like one of my lungs got pinched and partially collapsed for a little while. That explains the difficulty breathing. Only thing to do now is take ibuprofin and suck it up.
I was sucked under and drug along the bottom of the river slamming into rocks like a meaty pinball. The river kicked me up just long enough to get some air and show me what was in store next: A huge fucking boulder. Sucked back under and slammed into the boulder wile-e-coyote style. I was peeled off and banged around a bit more before I surfaced long enough to swim to a nearby raft.
My ribs were banged up pretty bad, and I felt like one of my lungs wasnt cooperating. Oh, and my glasses were long gone.
We went down the river a couple more miles until there was a place where we could pull over and get me out. They sent a guide ahead to try to find a bus to come pick me up, so I hiked after her figuring we'd just meet in the middle. I start walking up the dirt road and my camelbak is empty within the first 50 feet. It's 105 out. Balls.
A 3.5 mile hike uphill in the canyon later and I reached the staging point for the 'take out' buses just as one was leaving to come get me. I think I was looking pretty sorry at that point: Hunched over, gasping, blinking owlishly trying to make out anything around me, and feet rubbed raw and bleeding from hiking up that trail.
From there I made it back to my bike, where a coworker loaned me a pair of glasses that were almost, but not quite, entirely not my prescription. They were enough to get me home, but I was blind as hell.
Unfortunately I took the R1 that morning, so the ride home was pretty uncomfortable. Since I couldn't see too well I managed to hit every damn pothole out on 80, 99, 4, 5, 205, 580, 680, mission blvd, 880, and 17.
I made it home on the R1, put some contacts in, jumped on the fz6 and rode to dominican to get checked out.
As the fz6 was warming up I responded to a SMS Sarah had sent me earlier in the day mentioning that I was going to the ER to get checked out for some busted ribs. I barely get checked in and the fucking Calvary rolls in the rescue:
Jon rode my FZ home for me and Seric gave me a lift. Sarah kept me sane.
Thanks all of you, I fucking love this club.
Oh, and no broken ribs. Bunch of soft tissue damage and it looks like one of my lungs got pinched and partially collapsed for a little while. That explains the difficulty breathing. Only thing to do now is take ibuprofin and suck it up.
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