Camping in the Apocalypse [Delayed Post]

In May 2020, Maryland opened camping back up, so we found a state forest with primitive campsites and VERIFIED THAT IT WAS OPEN during a scouting trip the previous weekend. We were able to pick up a campground map, read all of the policies, and scope out the water spigot at the forest HQ (works) and the bathrooms ("closed for renovations"). 

Friday night on our way home from a dicnic (a dinner picnic, that is) we discussed How to Leave on Time. Jaron had already started packing during Julie's workday. We talked about how much food to bring and how much water we needed for cooking, drinking, etc. Who was bringing the camp stove. You know, stuff like that. 

Then commenced 2 hours of packing and bike loading. Packing is the easy part. It's loading the bike up that takes the longest amount of time. Julie has very limited space on the Hovercraft until her side racks and panniers come in. So allz I have is the small topcase and a 25L bag. The Hovercraft's center stand was removed, presumably to increase ground clearance, and it leans over quite a bit (which is another thing I need to address with my new motorcycle welder. I can't believe I'm going to ask for a taller kick stand.) It's always great when you get things loaded on your bike while it's leaning and find out that everything is crooked once you get going. Anyway, picture Julie sitting backwards (reverse cowgirl, as it were) on the Hovercraft fighting with a duffel bag, getting everything to fit and wrangling 12 buckles. I almost got done at 11:20, later than our goal of 11:00. But, I had to go back and color code the buckles because I knew this was going to drive me crazy when I had to deal with it again. 

The stickers came from a calendar, the most useless purchase of 2020. I know they are going to come off, so I will color code straps permanently with nail polish in the future. 😉

Jaron made a Big American Breakfast so we could spend our day riding and not worry about lunch. We took the scenic route to Green Ridge State Forest and it was just a great ride. The weather was gorgeous and the riding went smoothly. 

Entering the state forest from the south there were some STEEP gravel hills so Julie was really appreciative of her low end torquey G650GS. We made the turn off on to a gravel road for the area we wanted to camp in. It's right across the river from Sideling Hill, so the geology was just gorgeous. I remember going downhill on a stretch of bare rock washboard road with dirt bikes coming from the opposite direction and a sheer drop off. 

We made our way to our first choice camping spot and found that it was already occupied. No problem, I had a couple of backups. There were like 3 RVs in this spot and the guys there explained how the FCFS system worked there. Got turned around without incident and went back the way we came. On the same road. That we had already been on. The one I had just successfully navigated on the way out. 

In a hairpin turn at the bottom of a hill, Julie made a last-second adjustment that caused her to go down. The road was very wide here and also banked, which is unusual for a gravel road. Because of the last minute adjustment my elbow was sticking out. Because the road was banked. when I fell with my elbow sticking out, I "chicken winged it" as Jaron said. My right leg was also pinned under the bike. My leg was actually my primary concern. Jaron was already around the corner and halfway up the hill so he ditched his bike in the middle of the hill and ran over to help me. After he picked the bike up I realized how much my arm hurt and said I just needed to lay there for a minute to collect myself. Then he helped me get up with my left arm. My right leg was fine bc I finally got ADV boots with anti-torsion protection. I want to state again here that people fall all the time while riding on gravel, and falling while going 10mph really should not have been a big deal. 

My right arm hurt pretty badly. I needed help getting my helmet off. Then VERY GENTLY took my right glove off and had Jaron take my left glove off. No blood and everything was still attached. Check. And then we VERY GENTLY got my jacket off. No blood and everything was still attached. Check, check. I started basically doing a PT evaluation on myself: wiggled my fingers, moved my wrist around, bent my elbow. I could not bend my elbow past a certain point. Hmm. Started moving my arm at the shoulder joint forward, back and to the side and found I could go backward but not forward or to the side. Ok. While I was doing that, Jaron moved my bike next to his, on the side of the steep hill. 

Then we had "the talk" about why I didn't need to go to a hospital. I, in classic Julie denial/stubbornness, still wanted to camp. Jaron asked how I was going to get to the next site 2 miles away and I said I could walk. I was sure my arm would feel better in like 2 hours. He asked if I could ride pillion to the nearest ER, or to a hotel. It was during the first wave of the pandemic and I didn't want to go to the ER, and besides I really didn't think this was that bad, and I was not keen on jostling my arm by riding pillion. Plus there was no way I was going to abandon my bike, duh. Since I kept saying it would feel fine in 2 hours, Jaron asked me to sit on the bike and see where I was at. I tried to move my hand to the handlebar and it just wouldn't go. I tried crawling it up with my fingers on the gas tank, bracing myself for pain, and it just wouldn't go above a certain point. (I asked the dr about this since I was confused as to why my stubborn will failed me, and he said your body will stop you from damaging it too much. Hmm.)

Then Jaron suggested that he could go home on his bike and get his car (stick shift) to come back and get me. I countered by asking him to bring my truck (automatic) back so I could drive myself home and he could ride my comically-small-for-him bike home. Jaron was skeptical that I'd be able to drive myself home. I really didn't want to abandon my bike and said at least the truck would give me the option. So now we had a plan. I'd fallen at about 5:00 pm and we were 2 hours from home going the fast way. It took about an hour to get everything moved and Jaron was anxious to get going on his 4 hour round trip. He set up my camp chair, which was super considerate. Made sure I had water, snacks, head lamp, TP, and smokes and he GTFO. 

Well, now was my opportunity to enjoy that solitude I was after. First order of business, I took some Tylenol. Fat lot of good that did. Next order of business, I made myself a sling out of some straps that I worked free with my one good hand (not as easy as it sounds). Then I sat in my camp chair on the steep hill and thought about my life choices. And enjoyed the solitude. 

I had cell service, so I fact-checked my medical situation with a friend and kept an eye on the hubby tracker. Two trucks passed my roadside oasis...not a normal place to stop for a break. When I heard them coming, I took my arm out of the sling so as not to appear an easy target. I kicked my feet back and smiled and waved at them and gave the thumbs up to show I was not a maiden (matron, I guess) in distress. It worked; they didn't stop. I also localized my pain to the front of my shoulder and had figured out my pain-free range of motion. Before 8:00 I saw that Jaron had made it home and was on his way back, because he was riding like a bat out of hell. 

As dusk approached I consolidated my things for easy loading in the dark and moved my trash bag about 10 ft away so that creatures would not be attracted to my location. I heard the night creatures of the forest start to wake up. The weather was cooling down so I carefully put my motorcycle jacket back on. And enjoyed the sounds of the forest and the solitude. 

At 9:15 I heard a lot of engines revving high from deeper in the woods. Weird. Then I saw colorful lights on small vehicles driving erratically. I heard whoops as dune buggies full of drunk people came around a turn -- the hairpin turn I wiped out on. I turned on my bike to turn the lights on so that no one would hit it and took off my sling. The driver of first dune buggy stopped and asked if I was ok. It was one of the guys from the campsite we tried to go to and he recognized me. I said yeah, my husband is coming back with the truck. He asked if I needed anything and I said nah, I'm fine and reiterated that my husband was on his way. FOUR dune buggies passed me on their way out for a drunken joyride in the dark. Being very familiar with chivalry, I knew that if I was still there when they came back, I'd never be able to get rid of them. 

Just after 10:00 Jaron shows up. He was REALLY riding and driving like a bat out of hell and didn't even take any time for a break. I told him some drunken dune buggies would be coming back and we worked together to load everything up as fast as possible before there was a traffic jam on this one lane gravel road on a steep hill. I had taken the top case and 25L bag off of my bike to lighten it up for Jaron (not as easy with one hand as it sounds). The bike needed gas to make it home so we agreed to stop at the first station and got our asses back on the road. (For those counting, this was the 2nd failed camping trip of the apocalypse.)

It was about half an hour to the first gas station. We had not really had a chance to talk about what was going on until then, and as I mentioned Jaron had not even taken a break this entire time until then. I was able to force my arm up to the sink to be able to wash my hands, finally (laaaa). So we took a break and then got going the rest of the way and made it home by 1:00 am Saturday night. 

For those counting, Jaron rode 6 hours after 6:00 pm that night. AFTER taking the scenic route in the morning, so well over 11 hours in the saddle for the day. The grand finale of which was on my super buzzy single cylinder bike that is way too small for him. Oh - he told me that at 70 mph it was particularly buzzy for him which was, of course, the speed I set my cruise control to. 

On Sunday I sent a message to my dr and early on Monday I got a call to set up an urgent video appt that day. Then a referral to a sports medicine orthopedic specialist and I had that video appt Tuesday morning. He advised me to get a real sling (I'd just been using my motorcycle luggage straps) and sleep in it (super helpful!) and ordered an x-ray which I was able to get Tuesday afternoon and then I was diagnosed with a fracture, all without an in-person appt. Because it was my dominant arm, he wanted to do an MRI also which I got on Thursday or Friday, and got the results the following Monday. Then I was diagnosed with a BAD fracture and given hard pain meds...9 days after the incident. Something about 6 mm, and 5mm was the threshold for surgery, but he wanted to try to avoid that <nods vigorously> I fractured the greater tuberosity, which is the larger of the two nubs of the top of the humerus bone. My dedication/stubbornness to riding was such that when I had my last appointment with him, after he cleared me for activity he asked me where he should start since he was interested in riding a motorcycle. 

I obviously should have gone to the ER on Sunday...next time I am definitely going to the ER. It would have been nice to have all of this information (and the right pain meds) the first day. I really didn't think it was that bad. I mean, it hurt, but I'd give it a 6-7 out of 10. I'd never broken a bone before. I wasn't trying to be stubborn (it comes naturally) -- in my mind, you go the ER when you're about to die or be permanently disabled without medical attention. But apparently the ER is still appropriate when you are merely badly injured...which requires admitting that you are badly injured, which is another problem I am working on. 

Anyway, I rehabbed it over the summer and did a lot of reading in my hammock. I was really beating myself up for finding a way to make the pandemic suck worse -- by taking away my favorite hobby. This happened in mid-May and I started riding again 11 weeks later, in August.