On Christmas morning, as I’d done every Christmas of our 11 years of marriage, I headed out the door as usual for a training ride leaving my wife comfortably wrapped in a blanket. As was my habit, the last thing I checked after strapping on my helmet, was that I had my Road ID. My wife had convinced me years earlier after some nastyaccidents, to buy one.
Just to keep her happy, I did and had gotten to the point where I didn’t feel safe without it.
I rode through the Denver suburb of Golden, CO and headed south towards the course that I planned to train on for the next hour. Approaching my destination, I realized that there was still too much snow left from the last storm for me to effectively train, so my plan changed. Today was going to be a ride in the hills southwest of town instead. I hoped to find some nice gravel so that I could at least work on technique. I turned south, giving the course one last look and that’s the last thing I remember.
I came back to reality some time later in an ambulance, strapped to a backboard, with an EMT inserting an IV needle in to my arm. I’d been the victim of a hit and run. Knocked unconscious and left on the side of the road while the driver either intentionally or by mistake, left the scene. The only evidence of the accident was a passenger side rear view mirror with no
serial number or VIN number, so no way to trace the driver.
Luck was on my side however, because less than 5 minutes after being hit, a driver found me wandering around on the roadside. It was obvious from the condition of my bike, that I’d been in an accident. This good Samaritan called 911 immediately. The next call, thanks to the Road ID, went to my wife who called me while I was in the ambulance on my way to the hospital. Because it was inscribed on my ID, the EMTs knew that I had no known allergies, but historically low pulse and blood pressure.
To make a long story short, I spent the next week in the hospital, with 6 broken ribs, a cracked sternum and cracked C1 vertebrae. I was alive though, and thanks to Road ID, the caregivers who found me had all the information that they needed in order to care for me and let the important people in my life know where I was.
I never leave my house without it.
- Lee .W from Wheat Ridge, CO