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Resting
in the Start Gate
Myles
lies on his bed, lounging like a leopard after lunch. If he had
a tail it would twitch. Beneath his black Troy Lee sweats, his broken
legs are mending by the minute. What's coming next are Myles' own
words about the wreck from his personal journal, written before
he could walk.
Goosebumps
"My
day began in Hollister Hills, California -with my bro Chris, local
moto honch. The smell of racing gas was giving me goosebumps as
I warmed my bike, ready to hit the fresh loam left by the November
rain. We covered the whole park by midday, assaulting every single
track and technical hillside notch. We took a break, undressed,
and went to town for a bite.
We
were ready to call it a day-and I convinced myself to suit up and
go for one more ride. We were ripping everything in sight…avoiding
rangers because I had no spark arrester. Being banditos, we stayed
on the outskirts of the park… practicing the downhills in neutral
with the engine off. We ended up on a wide open fire road.
I
compression-started my bike and I was off down the road…I'm in third…fourth…fifth…wide
open. Wide smile. I let off and clicked down to fourth. My 250 had
pulled away from Chris. I looked back to catch a glimpse of where
he was, my ego soaring.
Sheer
Hell
I
began to enter a turn. Not really worried, I'm off the gas, coasting
into the corner.. The turn gets tighter and tighter. I was drifting
to the right as the road was bending to the left.
I
was on the outside edge when I saw the tree, a small, scrawny scrub
oak. My heels were resting lazily on the pegs-the back brake out
of reach. When in doubt, gas it, and I did- right into the trunk
with my forks. Just before impact, I bail. As I jump from the bike-Bang.
My right side and leg hit the tree, snapping the femur.
My
left boot sheered the clutch lever bolt right off as my leg caught
the handlebars, hyper-extending my leg to the point of mass destruction.
I ragdolled down the hill to a stop.
Chris
immediately came to my aid. "Are you OK?" In that moment my brain
drew a blank because I could not move my legs. I knew instantly
my legs were badly broken. "I need you to go back for help."
Soon
after I went into a semi-mushroom like trip…Technicolor fall leaves
crunching underneath. Waiting. Gripping an exposed root, listening
to the distancing sound of Chris' bike, knowing that I was soon
going to face the reality of serious injuries. People trickled to
the scene. Finally the rangers arrived. Ranger Mike immediately
began cutting off my sweet new boots. Anything, just don't move
my legs.
Biting
the Bullet
I
hear the chopper approaching. For a moment I was almost happy. Once
I was on the backboard I could relax. The medics asked me if I wanted
something for the pain. Needless to say, I accepted. With pleasure.
Once
airborne, my mushroom-like trip turned into a morphine cloud. I
didn't want to face the facts of being injured. I remember the instant
we left the ground, I made a conscious decision that if the heli
was going to crash it would be totally OK if I died.
We
arrived at San Jose Medical Center. Wheeled in and diagnosed. Nightmare
became reality. I was soo scared to let the doctor operate. Was
this guy going to be able to put me back together? Could I hold
out for an opinion from specialists? Fear and sadness mixed with
my drug-induced state made it hard to make the decision to go ahead.
I spoke to my mom on the phone and started to cry. It was urgent
to get underway. My leg was the size of a balloon.
After
answering a slew of questions, the anesthesiologist administered
a dose that could have killed a horse. Lights out. Complete trust
and faith were all I had.
Ice
is Nice
Woke
up in this dark hallway moving smooth and effortlessly along…the
wall paneling zooming past me like blasting through some Babylonian,
florescent tubing. Beeps and clicks and the drone of a PA system.
I hear my father's voice and feel the comfort of a loving touch.
"You're OK, you're through with surgery"…11 hours worth. Hearing
the words were almost insignificant to my mounting thirst and the
pressure in my right butt cheek. My tongue glued to the roof of
my mouth…all I can think of is water. My mother spoon fed me ice
chips. It was relaxing and pure relief to my Sahara thirst. 4 AM.
I am recovering.
After
being in the hospital for nearly a week the real world almost doesn't
exist. Sitting there wacked on morphine gives you a fake sense of
comfort. The day I was released, although I couldn't wait to get
out, I felt a frightening responsibility.
I
now had to look after myself and protect the injuries from my own
lack of ability. I chose to stop taking painkillers, any meds. The
drugs are so bad, they're insidious, giving you a false sense of
security. I've learned that facing the brutality of being hurt,
you can have a much better state of mind if you are clean. The brain
can function.
Home
is Where the Heart is
Arriving
home I saw my family and friends really being there for me. My buddies
faces are readable, sort of apprehensive, supportive, but truly
bummed out. No one can be sure how I will handle being out of commission.
Nowhere
to Run, Nowhere to Hide
Being
transformed from athlete and exercise freak to a wheelchair-dependent
guy with two broken legs left me with nothing except my mind to
entertain my thoughts and upward energy.
Until
this point in my life, the activities that are truly fulfilling
involve great risk. The sports I love are dangerous-commanding respect
from participants and fans. The fascination is going higher, farther,
faster, more intense. Risk is the danger one faces every time out.
I
was angry at myself for putting my body at risk and losing the roll
of the dice. Letting go of the resentment toward myself is a big
step in recovery-accepting the loss and the responsibility and trying
to let go of what I could have, should have, or didn't do.
An
accident like mine can be looked at as an accident or as a sign,
possibly a signal to wake up to something. No one wants to admit
that they self-destructed, but there is a certain sense of relief
when you get to a place of perspective--- where the clarity of life
streams into your existence."
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