Highway to Hell

A couple of months into Chris and I seeing each other we were having an amazing time. At weekends we’d either meet up at a bike events like Dirt Quake, The Hook up or he’d ride his shovel from Cardiff-to-Leeds nearly every week to see me.

The last fuel stop before Chris headed back to Wales

 

The weather was absolutely perfect across the August bank holiday weekend, so we spent the whole time riding side-by-side along beautiful Yorkshire roads, meeting up with local friends and bikers, camping and generally living what can only be described as a fairytale biker romance. That might sound cheesy as hell to you, but to us, it was just that. It was a dream way to live.

 

After the weekend was over, we said our goodbyes and Chris left to ride back to Wales. I was heading to town on my Z750 chop – which I fondly refer to by name as ‘Zed’ – enjoying the ride, high on life after the amazing weekend.

 

Then a car pulled out on me.

 

I’ve ridden almost every day for over 10 years and, like every rider, I’ve experienced plenty of near-misses due to other road users, but that day was different. There was no way of avoiding it.

 

The initial impact felt like a bomb exploded in my stomach. Then I flipped over the car, still wrapped around Zed, and we both came to a stop crumpled on the ground.

 

For a brief moment, everything was silent.

 

Thinking back on it now I remember lots of people were around. Some of them were screaming, someone was phoning for an ambulance, and two amazing guys were lifting Zed off me. They both held my head and legs still while chatting calmly to me until the ambulance arrived.

 

I screamed with every breath that came out of me.

 

My pelvis felt like jelly. I couldn’t feel my legs. Blood dripped from my arm. As soon as the ambulance crew assessed me they got me straight on the morphine. They cut all of my clothes off – including one of Chris’ jumpers that I was meant to be taking care of!

 

While I was as high as a kite, staring at the blue sky, I was thinking, ‘at least it isn’t raining, I’ve got my good knickers on and thank fuck for the NHS!’

 

That euphoria was short-lived, however, and I came crashing back down to reality when, in order to get me onto the stretcher, they had to count down ‘3… 2… 1’ to straighten my legs out. That was the worst. Or at least I thought it must be until they then had to secure my pelvis using some sort of corset thing. There was another countdown to pure sickening pain.

The temporary frame that was fitted during the first operation

 

I’d sustained a fractured skull, deep lacerations down my left side, a few grazes, and a shattered pelvis that had separated itself from my spine.

The X-ray showing all the gnarly metal work I know have

 

Using stitches, staples, lots of screws and a plate, it took two major operations to piece me back together.

 

Chris started a GoFundMe page as soon as he heard, which reached his set target within 40 minutes thanks to the amazing support that came mainly from the biker community.

 

The next morning, Chris was straight by my bedside giving me fund updates, trying to keep my spirits high.

 

The fund just kept going up and up, and I found it properly overwhelming. They even managed to raise over a thousand pounds at The Trip Out weekend, by passing around a bucket at the event. That was really fucking nice of them! I was gutted that I missed the event too, as Chris and I were so looking forward to it.

 

All of that love and positivity gave me such strength as I was lying there in my weakest ever state.

 

I was well looked after by the ambulance crew, A&E and the Major Trauma ward of the Leeds General Infirmary, and then I was left to face three months in a wheelchair unable to walk, followed be another three of physio to get me back on my feet.

My first venture outside on the roof terrace at the LGI

 

I’m only two months into that journey now as I write this so that recovery period should take me up to March, then we’ll have another couple of months until our trip begins.

 

Anyone who’s been in an accident before will know the ups and downs of recovery: every day is an absolute rollercoaster of feelings and emotions, not only for the person going through it but for their loved ones as well.

 

I am currently home, healing well and awaiting the physio to begin, which will hopefully be in December.

 

It’s been tough, frustrating and very painful at times, but my friends and family have helped me through. Chris though, more than anyone, has been my rock through this. He’s visited me every week and is currently taking care of Zed.

What was left of Zed after the crash

 

It won’t be long until Chris and I are living the biker fairytale again, riding side-by-side on our 2017 European roadtrip.

 

More updates to follow…