I have always appreciated my luck. Simply put, I’ve had my share of accidents and incidents, who hasn’t ? But in my instance, it verges on the absurd. In the space of my 70 plus years I, by the estimate of doctors of note, should have been killed almost 20 times. Now understand, this isn’t a source of pride, as any septuagenarian will tell you. Each incident does a level of damage to one’s anatomy that as a 20 or 30 year old, one will never appreciate until more advanced in age.
I started early on my journey of abuse and have continued finding new ways to damage my body ever since. However, this won’t be a diatribe about my stupidity or fatalistic approach towards the treatment of my body, rather it will simply be an appreciation for the fact that in spite of the reality that the only major bones in my body that I have not broken are both femurs and my pelvis.
As an avid motorcyclist, this last year was a bit trying, as once again, I managed to do an exceptional job of breaking my right leg, the details of which are too graphic for prime time. However, 54 staples later, another 20-30 sutures, a 12 inch long 1.5 inch plate in my lower leg held fast by 8 screws that are, believe it or not, as long as the deck screws I’ve used to secure two by fours on a deck, combined with some neurological damage, and, 9 months later I’m reflecting on luck.
I ride the bike you see illustrated on this site; a 2020 Kawasaki Ninja 1000sx. From the earliest spring day until the snow flies here in Western Canada it is the only means of transportation that I use. Now that winter is once again upon us, and having had only a couple of weeks to test my leg strength with my 518 pound speedy conveyance, I’m reflecting on my planned trip into the upper altitudes of the mountains in Western Canada and the United States.
Trekking and finding valleys and vistas, flora and fauna, that are somewhat unique in that few will venture tens of miles into the outback, is a love for me. Now, I worry that the injury suffered this last year may have put my forays into the unknown at risk. Climbing, is not particularly realistic for a man of 70 with three herniated discs, two damaged knees and a steel plate in one leg that limits mobility somewhat. But realism has never really mattered to me.
This summer I have several treks planned into upper meadows of the Rocky Mountains, the Cascades the Kootenays and the Tetons. The feeling of exhileration one has upon making it into a valley that you know few have seen from the ground, is something I’m not willing to forego. So, even though my doctor informs me that, “Ken, you don’t bounce well,” I’m still contemplating and planning for just such an excursion.
To be able to consider this option I have an enduring sense of gratitude for the skill of my surgeons, neurosurgeons, orthopedic specialists and probable psychiatrists, who all, I’m sure, think me mad. I’ve deferred to those with greater intelligence in that I will carry an emergency beacon this time, but have a sense of true appreciation for the opportunities that still exist.
Life is a crapshoot, and be that as it may, I intend on rolling the dice until I hit a 7 or 11. I want to thank Darwin for his unerring gift in that evolution has enabled my being here. Hopefully, I will not overly test his theories in the future.
Thanks for being here. I truly appreciate it. Be well, persevere, and find joy in the journey, whaterr its price.
Ciao…
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