My crash in 1968 was noteworthy.
It was the first day of summer vacation in Sandusky Ohio. I was 11 years old. The weather was perfect for riding all day long, and two of my brothers and I set out early and headed to the quarry to ride. The quarry was forbidden, but had the best hills you could ask for. A steep dirt hill surrounded the quarry to keep people out, but was used for sledding in the winter and riding in the summer. It was about 50 feet tall and snaked around the perimeter of the big quarry for about a mile. A beaten path ran across the top of the hill which was about 30 feet wide. Riding down the other side was a thrill, it was a steep drop but smooth and bottomed out on flat limestone which extended for several hundred yards. A long crack in the limestone made a great ramp to jump, as there was room to hit top speed and then a long way to land after the jump. Way over to the south was the quarry wall, a hundred foot cliff where they were mining limestone.
My youngest brother's bike was broken, so we stole my oldest brother's bike. It was a Hercules 3 speed with the handlebars all the way down and seat raised for racing. It was the fastest bike in the neighborhood. My bike was a 24" Evans and my older brother had a Monark I think. We spent most of the morning riding and having a blast. We switched bikes at one point and I was on the Hercules. There was a long medium grade road on the lower hill that went a long way down to the limestone. I had ridden it and it was tame enough and had a small dip near the bottom but wasn't that bad. My brothers didn't believe I had ridden that road before. I said "Watch me then, but I need my bike." My younger brother didn't want to give up the Evans, so he said: "I thought you could ride that road." I said "Ok then." and rode down it on the Hercules. The seat was so high I could barely touch the pedals, so I was riding on the top bar as I went down the incline. As I approached the little dip I decided to slow down a little and eased on the rear brake. It only locked up the wheel as all my weight was on the front wheel, so I very slowly eased on the front brake. I could have ridden the road without slowing down but I decided to slow down. The front brake grabbed and I flipped over the bars.
I came to and looked around wondering what was going on. I would have had a concussion, but I used my left arm as a cushion for my head just as I landed. My arm had two broken bones, radius and ulna. Cleanly fractured and my arm had a big kink in it. I looked up the hill and saw my two brothers watching. They thought I was kidding around because I was out for a minute, but then they saw my broken arm. Panic set in as we were forbidden to ride back at the quarry. The old man was known throughout the neighborhood as being mean. There was a lot of cussing and whippings in our household on a regular basis.
They took off! I was now at the bottom with a broken arm and a Hercules bike. I had big problems, one, being back at the quarry, and two, my oldest brother's bike. I couldn't leave the bike, so I dragged it with one hand and began the long journey home. Going up the hill was slow but I was doing it. At the top of the hill, the steep drop back to the cornfield was a dilemma. I finally had to let the bike roll down and crash at the bottom while I slid down as best I could. It ground the brown dirt into my clothing. I was also covered in white limestone dust from the crash. I made it to the bottom and drug the bike through the neighborhood hoping no one would see me. It was about 9am when I got back to the house. My two brothers were afraid, as I was. We were in for a beating. Dad expected to sleep in on a Saturday morning.
I tried to clean up but it was impossible. I was covered in dust and dirt and had a broken arm. I changed clothes but that didn't help. I had to scrub to get the dirt off and I was now in too much pain to worry about it. I went in to wake up my parents while everyone else hid somewhere.
"I think I broke my arm." My dad looked up and didn't think so, as I had my broken arm cradled with my good arm. Then I held up my left arm and he got up. "Ok let's go." He wasn't mad at all. I guess you don't get a whipping if your arm is already broken. I told them I hit the curb and flipped, but they knew I was at the quarry because I was covered in limestone dust.
So, I went from the first day of summer vacation 1968 to the last day of summer vacation with a big cast on my left arm.
I looked on google to see if the dirt hill was still there. Nope, the quarry has mined right up to the edge of the property where the dirt hill was. It's just a hundred foot cliff now.
Running out of hands to work with.
