From The San Francisco Chronicle...
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/07/12/BAG61QV7GQ1.DTL
SUISUN
Injured motorcyclist spotted from air
Family finds man after renting copter to search for him
Steve Rubenstein, Chronicle Staff Writer
Thursday, July 12, 2007
A Suisun man who lay helpless in thick vegetation for nearly two days after crashing his motorcycle and breaking his legs was spotted by a helicopter and rescued on Wednesday in rural Solano County, authorities said.
Frederick Hinds, 46, was spotted by his sister, Gail, a passenger in a helicopter hired by his employer to look for him.
Hinds apparently lost control of his motorcycle Monday night on a bend in the road on Highway 12 near Denverton Road, west of Rio Vista. He landed near a creek in tall tule reeds and was not visible to police and the California Highway Patrol, who had searched the area earlier, the Highway Patrol said.
On Wednesday afternoon, a helicopter chartered from Wine Country Helicopters of Napa went aloft with Hinds' sister and two other family members.
After flying for about 30 minutes at an elevation of about 250 feet, the victim's sister spotted a glint of metal around 1 p.m. through thick black reeds and alerted the helicopter pilot, Wayne Lackey.
"When we got lower, the wind from the helicopter blew the reeds back so we could see the motorcycle down there,'' Lackey said. "Those reeds were very tall and it was really difficult to see anything. He was very, very lucky that we found him.''
Lackey landed the helicopter and the family members called out to Hinds, who had managed to crawl about 30 feet from the creek to a bridge. Hinds was in considerable pain, Lackey said, but seemed responsive, alert and eager to go home.
"It was a great, wonderful feeling to find him,'' Lackey said. "Everybody was hugging and kissing. Most of the time, searches like this don't have such good results.''
While the rescuers were waiting for paramedics to arrive, Lackey leaned over to Hinds and handed him a $10 bill.
"I told him to go buy some lottery tickets because today was his lucky day,'' the pilot said.
Hinds was being treated at John Muir Medical Center in Walnut Creek.
E-mail Steve Rubenstein at srubenstein@sfchronicle.com.
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/07/12/BAG61QV7GQ1.DTL
This article appeared on page B - 2 of the San Francisco Chronicle
I don't know whether this fellow was carving the canyons and dragging his knees or if he was just on a relaxed calm ride but he sure was lucky.
On Memorial Day weekend in 1979, I was on a customary Sunday morning ride with my friends Michael and Dave, carving up the incredible, curvy, rural roads of Dane County, Wisconsin, which encompasses Madison. There are hills, switchbacks, hairpin curves, sweepers, and everything in between. We used to ride a 100-mile loop in Dane County alone and never touched our tires to the same asphalt twice in the day -- that's how diverse and amazing the roads are there.
Anyway, on that sunny, already-hot spring morning, Michael and Dave took off ahead of me as usual, with Mike on his two-month-old black 1979 Honda CB750F Super Sport and Dave on his bright red 1978 Suzuki GS400 twin -- don't laugh, Dave had put Metzlers on it, S&W shocks, clubman bars, cut off every piece of excess weight including passenger pegs, turn signals and mounts and more and turned it into a sleeper cafe racer that could stay right there with Mike's CB750F, at least in the curvy stuff.
Each Sunday the pattern was that Dave and Mike would go flying through the countryside and I would meander my way behind them on my beautiful red 1975 Honda CB400F, not wanting to smash into a farm tractor at high speed. By the time I'd pull up behind them at a rural intersection, even when I was flying at 75 or 80 mph, Dave had already had the time to pull off his helmet and smoke a cigarette while he and Mike smiled and talked about he curves they had just ridden. Then after I again met up with them, Dave would put his helmet back on and kickstart his GS400 to life and they'd take off again, with me and my lovely CB400F enjoying the slower ride behind them.
But on this Sunday morning, some 10 minutes later, as I came around an uphill right-hand curve and prepared for a downhill left-hander that I knew was coming up, my stomach fluttered as I could see a surreal cloud of dirt and debris hanging in the air atop the hill.
Someone had gone down.
I grabbed the brakes and as I crested the hill, I could see Dave riding back toward the dust from the bottom of the hill.
On the side of the road, I could see Michael, laying on the berm.
On either side of him were huge piles of stones and boulders, but somehow, miraculously, he had missed them all. Instead, as I parked my Honda and walked over to check on him, I was amazed to find him COVERED in ants -- somehow he had missed the rocks and hit a huge, soft anthill out here in the middle of rural Dane County. Slowly we had him inventory all his body parts, joints and extremities, and he was brusied and sore but was generally OK, with no broken bones. The bike was another story -- his two-month-old CB750F was trashed from front to back and wasn't rideable.
After some time talking, relaxing and ruminating on how lucky we had been that it wasn't more serious, I gave Mike a ride back home on the back of my Honda -- Dave had no passenger pegs, remember?
Later that day, we returned with Mike's car and trailer and dragged the mangled CB750F onto the trailer, a quiet end to what had started as a lovely day.
But I always wondered what would have happened had Mike been out there riding alone, which he sometimes did if Dave and I were busy. He always rode ten-tenths, right on the edge, and if he had crashed that day without Dave and I there, would he have been OK?
There is no answer. Maybe he'd have been fine and would have walked to a nearby farm for help. Or maybe not.
It made me think that riding alone on rural roads is something you should take extra care with, to the point of letting people know where you are going and nowadays certainly carrying a cell phone (although you can't always be assured of cell phone signal coverage). If nothing else, at least don't ride like you're Kenny Roberts when you are out there by yourself.
After that Sunday morning, Dave, Mike and I were always superstitious about riding on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. Instead, that day in later years we'd get together, have a barbecue and relax, and of course relive that fateful morning.
I'm glad they found this fellow in California and that he'll be OK. But he sure is lucky that his family had the money to rent a helicopter to find him.
Let's all be careful out there.
Yours,
Todd
Nope no canyons there just a somewhat fast moving highway. I live about 15-20 min from where that happened. good thing his family didn't give up on the search.
Quote from: CndnMax on July 12, 2007, 02:51:05 PM
Nope no canyons there just a somewhat fast moving highway. I live about 15-20 min from where that happened. good thing his family didn't give up on the search.
yeah my friends never know where i ma though thats the thing and my family rarely calls me. but I am glad to know people are out there that would do that for people. He his one lucky guy
help i've fallen and i can't get up
You make a really good point , i mean , what if u break ur amrs and legs , and cant crawl to ur fone , as your bags miles away , :thumb: good story , and Frankie , if u have nothing good 2 say dont , You Post W*ore ! Grrrr
that's why I like living in the Texas Panhandle. Here you can look further and see less than anywhere else in the world. It'd be hard to miss a motorcycle off the road.
Hope the biker recovers soon.
As for the Texas panhandle, is it true that if you stand on a tuna can, you can see the back of your own head?
You might have to tip-toe it, but yeah.
Quote from: frankieG on July 12, 2007, 06:00:52 PM
help i've fallen and i can't get up
Your an idiot :flipoff: