My inner Evel

Deep down inside I've always wanted to be a daredevil. I've wanted to huck myself off of jumps with the hopes of landing and looking cool, but knowing the possibility of crashing and having to suffer the consequences that went along with it, yet still being brave enough to go through with the stunt. I may get injured along the way, but that's a chance you take when you push boundaries and set records. Babes love death defiers and ever since I can remember, I've always been about the babes so you can see my motivation was valid. Unfortunately, my early 20's was when I started to collect my long list of daredevil injuries without actually doing daredevil stuff. Mind you, they all make for great stories and I was doing something fun at the time, but I wasn't jumping 19 cars knowing that if I didn't land I was going to wreck myself or possibly die.



I always feel bad for people that break something slipping on ice or falling in the shower because not only are they laid up for a stupid reason, but they don't even have a cool story to accompany the injury. I kind of felt that way about the end of this video. At the end Evel says, "We have very little choice about our life. The only thing really left is a choice about our death... and mine will be glorious." How bummed do you think he was that after every broken bone he suffered, a liver transplant, and two strokes, what finally killed him at 69 was a combination of diabetes and idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis? After all of that, it was like he fell in the shower. What I admire about Evel was he always got back on the bike. He had failed attempts that resulted in multiple broken broken bones that would leave the average person debilitated for life, but once he "healed" he was back doing what he loved.

My friend, David "Frosty" Frost, had a photography show awhile back at See See Motorcycles called Rise Above about the same thing. It wasn't about Evel Knievel, it was survivor stories about people who suffered substantial injuries due to motorcycle accidents, but continue to ride because their love of the bike was greater than the hardship of their injuries. That's saying a lot seeing as how one rider featured, Richard Jones, lost a leg and another, Chris Gilmer, is now a paraplegic. After his wreck Chris modified his motorcycles to all hand controls and still races. He's an inspiration to anyone who has ever laid the bike down.

Frosty asked me if I would share my own story for the blog and if I was interested in being featured in the show. He's a good friend of mine so I was down to be part of his project. The weird thing was, a couple of days after I agreed to be in the show my artificial knuckle I had from a motorcycle accident 11 years ago broke. I was back in the doctor's office preparing for my 6th hand surgery and reliving the accident I was in when I was 23 all over again. If you know math, here is where you figure out how old I am.

I've not only had several hand and hip surgeries from that one wreck, I've also been in plenty other accidents which resulted in surgery, so this was old hat for me and I found myself in a very familiar place having very familiar conversations. I picked my hand surgeon for a couple of reasons. 1) because his last name is Buehler and I love the movie "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" and 2) because he is not known for his bedside manor. That's what I wanted. I wanted a surgeon who wouldn't sugar coat my situation and who will just tell me flat out what's up. That's exactly what I got and he was awesome.

Frosty took this picture of me in Dr. Buehler's office and while he was there collecting possible content for the show, Dr. Buehler thought he was there because he was my husband. We had a good laugh about it and just played along. 

You can clearly see why he was mistaken for my husband. We are like peas in a pod.

These are the pictures Frosty used of me in the show with my father's bike and jacket. My pops died in a car accident earlier that year. I inherited his bike and was in the process of getting it dialed in.

Check out my story HERE

Since my prothetic knuckle broke and replacing it again wasn't an option, my doctor fused it with bone from my hip he took from the side without the giant scar. I brought in a grip to ensure whatever angle we went with I could still ride my bicycle and motorcycle. Since there was no more knuckle, my finger would remain in a fixed position.

The result, although looked gnarly, was successful and after a few months of healing I was still able to do what I love most. Because of modern medicine I am able to ride, but because of my undying love for the bike I still have the desire and passion to ride. That makes me more like Evel Knievel than taking any sweet jump out there.