Can winning a race make one immortal?
Perhaps if one was to beat ‘The King’ in a straight fight at the Peoria TT.
Who would not want to be remembered as the man who beat ‘The King’?
It’s the equivalent of Arthur pulling the sword from the stone.
So far, many have tried but none have done so.
A win there could be every bit as big as clinching a championship.
The Peoria TT is a fearsome place.
The younger generation calls it sketchy.
The type of track that puts a premium on skill and bravery,
separating those who have it from those who don’t.
There is more to flat track than turning left.
TT courses like Peoria have a right-hand turn and a jump.
Unlike the ovals, front brakes are used on TT courses.
This track is built in a valley forming a natural amphitheater.
Perfect for gladiators.
A rider must pull different skills from his bag of tricks to be competitive there.
Cole Zabala’s plan was simple.
Train at motocross to build the skills needed for TT.
Unfortunately, while training he got out of shape on a jump which led to him
coming down sideways crashing heavily.
Lying on the race track, dazed from the impact Cole accessed the damage done.
Pain everywhere, the lack of movement in his right wrist followed by coughing up blood
And the realization a hospital visit was required.
Going to a regular hospital after a motorcycle accident is never fun.
It’s bad enough you pitched it away but now you have to explain yourself.
The doctors diagnosed Cole with a broken scaphoid and a bruised lung.
They were not impressed.
They recommend surgery on the wrist with a non-removable cast.
He would need to cease training for ten weeks.
They said a removable cast was out of the question.
Cole spoke of the need to decrease the timelines due to his racing schedule.
The doctors would not flex.
Dreams of Peoria glory faded.
Racers always look for a better way.
Cole went for a second opinion at a sports medicine clinic.
He liked being treated like any other athlete there.
They offered a plan to minimize his downtime to 3 weeks.
Cole did PR only at the Pennsylvania round.
His first race weekend back was New York.
He was able to get a third in one of the qualifiers.
Bike issues prevented better results in the mains.
I talked with Zabala during that New York round.
Cole’s smiling face told the story.
Saying the pain was manageable.
We laughed about the hospital visits we riders have.
Commiserating about the ‘less than’ treatment for guys who crash bikes.
Cole laughed saying “regular hospitals hate us!”
Hey we should do an article!
That line stuck in my head.
Thinking about it while watching practice.
I started pecking away on my iPhone:
Regular hospitals hate us.
Have they never suffered for their art?
Experience has taught me I’m better off saying I fell out of a tree.
They roll their eyes when we drive ourselves to the ER after declining the ambulance ride.
I need your help, not your judgment.
I know your words come from a good place.
The kindness is much appreciated.
I can get thru the pain and the bullshit
Cause I’m living to line up again.
Peoria was next.
Time to find out if the blood, sweat, and tears were worth it.
But Mother Nature was not cooperating.
It took a whole lot of magic from Caterpillar to get the rain-soaked track together on time.
As the race day wore on the track got rougher.
Their race was the last of the day.
The battle began as the green flag dropped.
The King was on form.
Two of his challengers crashed out in the pursuit of victory.
Two red flags with the pressure of being perfect for the restarts.
Zabala still on the mend fought gallantly.
At one point running close second to The King.
At one point running close second to The King.
But The King was on a planet of his own.
He left the intensity behind.
Leaving second, third & fourth locked in a frenzied battle.
Pass after breathtaking pass at a ferocious clip.
Cole made a bid for second in the last corner but came up short.
Still a fine third place on his second race since the injury.
Jubilant times on the podium were a fine payback.
I just wonder how he’d do on a twin.
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Correction Mr Lawless ;
Having recently dealt with a run in with the ” Sausage Creature ) requiring a week in hospital and an additional twenty days in rehab …
….. this thou who hates the hospital .. along with the basics of science and medicine …. somehow believing like a fool ( stupid or ignorant ) that you somehow know better and that ANY career or passion is worth needlessly destroying your body for .
And before you or anyone else responds … read Herman Mair ( alpine downhill ski racer extraordinaire .. who makes any three of us combined look like a pathetic little wimp ) … and get a good taste of what not listening to medicine will garner you in the long run .
Suffice it to say sparky … it aint pretty .
So remember
SCIENCE ( and medicine ) DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU THINK …
because err … in reality sonny boy … you ain’t … thinking that is 😉
I’m glad you’re on this side on the grass GuitarSlinger. Your comments inspire, I’d miss them if you check out. Hope we can get you out to one of the pro/American Flat Track races to enjoy the show.
I had one serious accident in 60+ years of riding, which occurred about 35 years ago. Looking back, I can see that I broke several personal rules: 1) It was a route I had never ridden; 2) I was in a group I did not know; and 3) I was trying to keep up with the fastest riders in the group. There was a decreasing-radius set of chicanes. I was simply carrying too much speed, and I went off the road on the third set. My helmeted head hit the edge of the asphalt.
At the hospital, after an X-ray, I was rolled into a hallway alone. I buzzed to call my wife, who was a former RN. She came to the hospital and saw that I was ‘blue’, and needed oxygen. She quickly followed the tubing, and found that the O2 was not connected to the wall supply. To her credit, she raised ‘holy hell’ with the ER staff.
Once in a room, my day nurses were (mostly) white. They knew from my records that I was a motorcyclist. [In the E.R., I thought I was fooling everyone into thinking that I was a ‘bicyclist’. Of course, once they saw my AeroStich suit, boots, gloves and the helmet between my legs, they knew better.]
Once in my room, I learned that I had broken most of the ribs on my right side, plus my right collar bone. I had a bruise on my right hip, and I could not get out of bed without help. Thanks to my Schuberth helmet and AeroStich suit, gloves and boots, I was in pain — but I was alive! (ATGATT)
After a couple of days, I thought I might feel better with a real shower. The day nurse tossed a towel and bar of soap into the shower, and said, “…help yourself”, as she left the room. I couldn’t even get out of bed. I was pretty low.
But at night, the older black nurses were truly angels. While I told one my story, she sat nearby and listened to me. When I asked for a shower, another one not only provided the towel, washcloth, soap and shampoo, but she turned on the water. She helped me out of bed and into the shower. Once I had finished (it took a while), she helped me dry off and return to bed. God bless her!
I will never forget the ‘black angels’, and the way they took care of me. That’s the truth!
skippermike
I tangled with a competitor who was having a mechanical and cut to the inside as I attempted to pass resulting in “time out” on Willow Springs and a ride to the Antelope Valley trauma center last spring. I had been there 3 years earlier as my Indian vintage RR tossed me off and I broke my collar bone. This time my concussion should have put me in a protocol called “neuro checks” for at least half a day or so. I was wheeled in and I saw my doctor–the same one that examined me in ’18. In my fuzziness I tactlessly said “aren’t you the guy they call smiley”. He obviously didn’t like the descriptive name and said: “he’s fine, take him out”. I was wheeled into the hall and given clothes, changed under the covers, and was released to ride back to the track with my wife and friend. Malpractice or necessity (the trauma center was very busy on a Saturday)? I’ll never know unless I see “smiley” again. Maybe best not to talk next time.