Slight change of plan (day 17-18)
Day 17-18 (29-30th Aug)
2,708 miles
Trondheim to Verdal
I looked up and saw my bike on the road between me and the oncoming lorry, and there was an incessant horn going off somewhere nearby..
The previous day, I woke up and decided to extend my stay at the hostel in Trondheim, I had the time to ride up to Bodo and get the ferry to the Lofoten Islands still, or even to ride round the top and go the long way if the weather is good. It would be slightly more miles per day but its sunny the bike runs well and I'd just commit to fewer scenic stops if I could. There was a fairly small but friendly group of people staying in the hostel from all over europe and further afield, I spent a few hours writing in the canteen then needed a change of scenery and went down into Trondheim to find a cafe. As part of the scheme to encourage people to cycle more, the local council/district had installed some cycle lifts on steep hills. It looks like they work similar to ski-button lifts, and are a free-to-use single track in the edge of the pavement with an angled pad you put your foot on then press 'go' and it pushes you up the hill whilst you sit on your bike. I didn't see anyone using it but I've never seen that before, and is another indication of the forward thinking nature (and financial means) of Norweigian culture, encouraging a healthier lifestyle with its people. I had a wander round the cobbled streets for a little, sat watching an art installation of a water wheel retained at the shore and the flow of river into the sea turning it as various 'instruments' of driftwood and assembled articles knocked, tapped and clattered rythmically. I sat in a bagel cafe for a few hours listening to chilled tunes in the background when one of the people I'd met at the hostel tumbled in to photograph the pricelist of the cafe noting 'kindness - free' at the bottom. I'd been chatting to her a bit the previous evening and this morning so we had a wander round the town, cathedral and rivers then walked back to prepare dinner. I changed the vibration dampener on the sump guard of the bike with the new one I'd bought in Bergen, then sat chatting with the others in the hostel until the end of the evening.
The next morning I saddled up and set off as they went for a walk along the riverside and we said our farewells. I left a little later than intended but it was a peaceful morning contouring Trondheim Fjord northbound in the sun, having planned a route to do slightly more than 430km today up to Tosbotn via the coastline which would put me within a day and a half of Bodo by evening. After a couple of hours I was getting peckish and its always worse when you know you have food with you because its only willpower stopping you eating. I started thinking about where to stop with a view and came down a hillside to see a bay opening up on my left with a junction to a campsite which would do. I had overtaken a couple of cars on my way so the road ahead was clear but the oncoming traffic was flowing. I came to a stop, sat in the middle of the road with my indicator on, waiting to turn left at the junction.
This feels a bit strange to write out, and I know it reads like a story, but it's verbatim my thought process and the incident from my account.
It felt like someone had shoved me with a bit too much force, unexpected and a little rough like a familiar friend in a playful greeting trying to surprise you from behind. I looked up and saw my bike on the road between me and the oncoming lorry, and there was an incessant horn going off somewhere nearby. It was really annoying, why were they leaning on their horn. Why wasn't I on my bike? What's it doing on the road? What the hell has happened? I've been hit. My GoPro was on my chin, I turned it on and looked around. I don't remember hitting the floor but looking at my gear afterwards I obviously did, so I must have stood up pretty quickly. Everything worked on my body, I can walk, stand, move everything, breathe, no sharp pain, no dull pain, no pain. I've now had 3 bike related incidents in 5 years, and the quick self-assessment of how bad the body is, is scary. The range of options include everything from permanent damage and bits missing to nothing, and the optimal condition is a pretty small portion of those available so you do it quickly, and everything feels like its on pause until you know.
Okay - I'm alive, and complete, so what happens now. I turn round to check traffic behind me but I'm staring at the oncoming traffic anyway and the lorry had stopped, traffic building and nothing coming from behind me. The horn goes off as the lady removes the key from her car on the verge the otherside of the road ahead of me. I walked over to my bike and look around, one of my panniers is on the road, the other is in the grass beyond the bike, some luggage is still on, the tank bag is hanging limp, the swing arm is in two and the back wheel is sideways and jammed by the luggage rack. Fuck. I just walk around a bit, kick plastic bits off the road from the car, then start moving my stuff to the side of the road as the lorry driver comes over and asks if I'm okay as he phones the police and ambulance, I am, the bike isn't. The lady is walking around near her car, there doesn't appear to be anyone else in the car with her, so its just about stuff now, all the people are okay. I walked over to ask whether she was okay, she is but she's shaking and very apologetic for me, asks after the bike, apologises a lot more. I asked whether she saw my indicator, 'no, I didn't, I didn't see'. The road at junctions in Norway is often widened to give passing space for vehicles to go around those turning, the road here is widened, you can pass a lorry on the outside of a car waiting to turn, it wasn't just my indicator, she didn't see me at all, no tyre marks on the road, she didn't swerve, she didn't slow. 80kph (50mph) straight into me. I phone Pa, opening with "I'm okay, but I've been in an accident". It's the first time I start to think about the situation.
The rapid response ambulance arrive first, the paramedic walks over to me, looks at me, and walks over to the lady who is sitting in her car shaking, she has a bruised hand and is upset and stressed. I kept clearing and tidying up the scene, collecting my bits into one place, take my gloves, helmet and jacket off as two police cars arrive and ask for my licence, I hand it over as they spend time with the lady again. The lorry driver leaves before I realise so I never got to thank him for not running me over, and for keeping me safe. With two other officers I lift my bike upright and off the road, putting it onto its centre stand we are able to get it standing out of the way.
An ambulance arrives and I'm asked to come in and lay down for an assessment, I took my riding trousers and boots off and ask for my jacket to be brought into the ambulance as it has my GPS, passport, wallet, phone. After some poking and questions about what happened and what hurts, it feels unsure whether they should take me to hospital or not, I seem fine. There's a little bit of back and forth with paramedics coming to see me, eventually its me and one other who asks me if I'm okay. At that point I wasn't thinking about me, I was thinking about my bike, my trip, the energy I'd put in to get to where I am, the research, equipment, preparation, lining up my house, work sabbatical, fitness, money, everything for months and years to get to where I am. I can feel my eyes wetting and I can't conceal it, physically I feel fine, but I am very sad. I've noticed when I am talking to people who don't have english as their first language I use more straightforward words to make sure I'm understood, 'upset' might not translate very easily, 'sad' does. It sounds childlike to say, but its how I felt. She can see that, and it was clear she understood to what extent.
After some discussions the paramedics decide I must be taken to hospital because despite my appearance they tell me I am a trauma victim and due to the speed of impact I am going to be fully assessed, the door shuts and I'm belted into a bed as the blues and siren take me to Levanger Hospital. In a huge room with multiple status screens above me, x-ray machines on the ceiling and shelves of equipment, the ambulance crew introduce me to two nurses and a doctor. They talk in Norweigan, I pick out some words describing me but don't understand the majority. They switch to english, introduce themselves and ask me some questions, I'm then told that in 30 seconds the room is going to fill with people and I'm getting a full work-up as a trauma victim. So much happened in the next 10 minutes I just let go entirely trying to keep track, and lay there. I'm lifted onto a different bed by multiple hands, there are two or three people taking blood in two places in my left arm, my neck and head is being held by someone, I realise my t-shirt is no longer on, as someone covers my abdomen in warm gel and ultrasounds my organs, only to move out the way whilst I am told to breathe in and hold it so they can x-ray my chest in two places, then my hips, with everyone wearing lead gowns so they can contiune to work seamlessly. Doctors ask me questions, nurses are checking sensation in parts of my body asking if I can 'feel that' - I don't know who's talking or which bit of me they're checking, I've got 10 pairs of hands on me. I get rotated over with so many people holding me I'm partially suspended sideways, whilst others check my spine and lower back. To say it was thorough might not cover it, then as if flicking a switch, everyone is gone and I'm in the room with two nurses and a doctor again. I wonder if the burrito's I had in my bike are still there, and I'm glad I had a shower this morning.
I'm asked for my passport and E111 card which are scanned and returned, then I'm told the nurse will be back in a moment and I'm in the room alone so just lay there, with nothing in my head.
Someone returns to tell me the doctor I've been admitted under wants to keep me in of 6 hours to make sure there's no latent affects of the accident, its 14:30. I realised I don't know where my things are, I have no-where to sleep and I don't know where my bike is, and I'm told everything closes at 16:00 on Friday until Monday morning. The consistent ache in my shoulder and hip are the only physical reminders of what happened this afternoon but they feel no worse than a rough days caving or over-doing it lifting something at home, so I am confident they'll be sore for a few days but that I'll be okay - 6 hours is overkill from my perspective.
I asked the nurse Christine (I apologise I've almost certainly spelt everyone's names wrong but I'm using them because these people made a difference with how much they helped me when they didn't have to) if she could find out where my bike is, and my things, and could I get a t-shirt. Christine returned with a number of the police officer in charge of my case.
I phoned Jax before I spoke to the police, I needed to talk to someone from home but I can't keep my voice steady at the moment and I know Jax can handle that and filter it to others to let them know I'm okay even though I know I'm not at all convincing on the phone. I called the police officer Andreas and discover they have all my roadside things at the station in Steinkjer 40 minutes north and that my bike was at the side of the road where I helped lift it onto its centre stand two hours earlier. After pointing out the total lack of support or options I currently have, I managed to get him to agree to bring my things to me, and ask whether they have any vehicle recovery ability. They have a company they use and if I got them a location of a garage they'd have the bike moved, collect me from hospital and meet me at the bike where I can also give a victim statement for the case if that was okay. After some google searching I found a garage in Verdal just south of the crash site, 2km from Soria Moria Camping where I hope I can stay. I want to stay somewhere close to my bike so I can commute to it by foot as I fix it, thinking about how to move forward with this trip. I only spent a few minutes looking at the bike but I took a few photographs of it in the road which I reviewed in my hospital bed. I'm only 3 weeks into a 4 month adventure, and I refuse to let the carelessness of one driver stop my plans. I phone the Verdal Bat Scooper & MC workshop and explain my situation, where I am and what I am trying to do. I need somewhere to meet the police with my things and get my bike secure, but importantly I want to be able to work on it in their workshop. Sindre who owns the workshop agrees to help me and will keep the workshop open beyond closing time to accept the bike, on a Friday night.
I'm discharged from hospital and thank as many people as I can as I leave - I feel incredibly lucky to be alive at this stage, and have had so much kindness and support from the paramedics and staff at Levangar Hospital. I sat in the sunshine at the entrance beside the pottered pink and purple flowers in my new white hospital issue t-shirt and shorts and call my parents to give them the update. Pa has already researched flights, schedules and costs, and is 30 seconds away from coming out to me via Oslo, or be on standby if I need it, or do anything else I need. With the intensity of the crash and situation slowly dissolving it is turning into a logistical challenge now, medical dramas mostly resolved. I am more convincingly okay on the phone with my parents and starting to form a plan which is giving me energy and strength again, something I was decidedly without when laying in the ambulance driving away from everything. I am okay, I have arranged a lift to my things, my bike is hopefully getting moved to a workshop, I should be able to get somewhere to sleep tonight, and I am optimistic that despite the sad state of the bike, nothing is ever too damaged. Insurance companies may not agree but its my bike and if I can't fix it and continue, whats the point in being a mechanical engineer in the first place.
The police van arrives and I sit up front with them on my way to Verdal Bat Scooter & MC workshop where I meet Sindre, I explain a little of what the next steps are to him then sit in the van with the police for 30 mins as I give a victim statement, I’m told my rights, and discover that the driver is being charged with the equivalent of dangerous driving after breaking the 3rd law of Norweigan driving to ensure that no harm comes to other road users. My bike arrives on the back of a transport lorry and looks very sorry for itself. Sindre hadn't appreciated the extent of the damage and sounds a little hesitant about the loose arrangement not yet firmed up but I try to reassure, as the bike is unloaded into the workshop behind the showroom and I pay for the transport. The police depart, wishing me luck, and remind me how lucky I am to be standing here, which is the ongoing marvel of everyone I have had help from all afternoon. 50mph, and I don't have a scratch.
Sindre offers to give me a lift with my equipment to Soira Moira Camping as it starts to rain and I arrive at the self-service campsite. I thank him for his help again and arrange to see him Monday as the workshop is closed all weekend which is frustrating as I just want to understand the extent of my next challenge, but is probably a kindness in having forced rest for 2 days. I phoned a number on the reception door and spoke to Rolf Andreas who was happy for me to book myself into a cabin and sort money at a later date, I had intended to sleep in a tent but as the rain intensifies I don't want to deal with camping tonight.
At 19:00 I opened my topbox and discovered the carton of milk hadn't turned everything into a cheesy casserole and that the burritos were intact. I sat on the covered veranda of the two bunk cabin and finally had lunch, as a rainbow spread out over the hills in front of me.
