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This article first appeared in Mountain Rescue Magazine, October 2009, issue 30, titled 'Of Hats and Helmets'.

Of Maps and Helmets

Bev being a good girl with helmet and eye protection

Bev being a good girl with helmet and eye protection

Helmets are one piece of equipment I don't skimp on, I never forget it and always wear it. A crappy helmet is better than no helmet. A helmet needs to be: light, strong and comfortable, with the emphasis on comfortable. If it's uncomfortable, it won't get worn, no matter how light and strong it is. I'm prepared to pay a premium for comfort and strength, if it's light then so much the better.

I have seen several accidents where the helmet saved the wearer from much worse injuries had they not been wearing one.

One of these incidents involved my wife.

This incident also served to remind me of the need for maps.

We had arrived at the forest parking place, got the bikes out, backpacks on, then I realised I had forgotten my cycling shoes.
"Bugger!' I said (my apologies if I have offended anyone, but be ready for more apologies 'cos I don't know any Latin).

Bev (my wife) and Robert (our son), pootled off together while I went home to get my shoes, I would meet them later.

Back to house, get shoes, back to car park, get on bike and pedal like crazy to catch up.

After 15 minutes of lung bursting riding, I caught up with them. Meantime, they had been having adventures. Robert's chain had come off and been rectified, and they had passed a man with a dog. Life was good.

We set of again, but instead of the crunching of tyres on gravel, Robert and I heard a sort of muffled 'thud'. I stopped quickly, as this was not the type of sound that bodes well.

Bev was lying on the ground, face down, with the bike in a tangle above her, she was not moving, which was strange, she usually moves, even just a little, like when her eyebrow arches.

We rushed back up and she started moving again.

"What happened?" I asked?

"I don't know, one minute I'm riding the bike, the next I'm on the floor! You tell me what happened!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so... my neck hurts a bit but I'm ok."

We examined Bev's helmet, a few scratches but it seems sound. Phew, that could have been nasty. We just need to remember to buy a new one soon.

On our bikes and pootle onwards. After a few moments, Bev asks, "Did we pass a man and a dog".

"Yes," says Robert, "about 10 minutes ago"

After another few moments, "Did we fix Robert's bike chain?"

"Yeees...." A bit of concern creeps in. As usual it's uninvited and most often, unfounded, but it makes it's presence felt.

"Did we pass a man with a dog?"

Woah now! something's wrong here!

"Did we fix Robert's bike chain?"

"Lets have a nice little rest." I suggested. Concern was now being ignored, fear had just hammered on the door!

I checked Bev out as best I could, nothing obvious but I was sure she had a concussion and possibly other problems that scared the hell out of me.

"I think I'll just call for an ambulance to meet us..."

"I'm not getting in an ambulance, there's nothing wrong with me, I'm going home!" And true to her word, Bev starts running home, probably just to prove that there is, indeed nothing wrong with her. Home, however, just happened to be in the opposite direction, and she's forgotten her bike.

In the meantime I've got through to the ambulance services and was trying to explain the problem.

"Is the casualty breathing?" asks the female emergency services operator.

"Yes, she's legging it up the road!"

"Is the casualty conscious?"

"Yes she is! She's bluddy well running away from me!" I'm on the verge of laughing in hysteria. I'm trying to catch a runaway, paranoid wife with some form of head injury, and the operator is asking me if she's breathing!

"Can you get her to stay still?"

"I'd bluddy sit on her if I could catch her!"

"Sir, we need you to stay where you are so we don't lose phone contact!"

"But then I won't know where my wife is!"

"Oh!"

By this time Bev and Robert are out of my sight. Robert (who is twenty something years old and extremely handsome, like his dad), is trying to calm Bev down and get her to stay in one place.

"Where are you? Can you give me your grid reference?" asks the operator.

As luck would have it, only that morning I had taken my OS map of the area, out of my bag. I didn't need it on our local ride, I knew every inch of the place, getting lost was not possible!

However, I have now come to realise that maps, grid references, compasses and GPS devices are a great means of being found.

So... No, I can't give you a grid reference Miss (or maybe Mz) emergency operator person, because I'm an absolute, complete, incompetent, half-witted IMBECILE who shouldn't be in charge of a teddy bear let alone taking his beautiful wife and son riding along dangerous mountain roads!!!

All right calm down mate, do your best and give them some info.

"I'm on Margam mountain, about halfway between the Golf Club and Bryn village, on the eastern side of the mountain on the highest fireroad."

"How do you spell Bryn?"

Oh for the love of Pluto!

"We have the helicopter in the air, they should be with you in a few minutes, please stay where you are."

"I can't, I have to look for my wife!"

"Please keep the mobile phone switched on, the helicopter pilot with contact you directly."


I find Robert and Bev well inside the trees, around the corner and up the hill. You know where I mean.

"I'm not getting in no ambulance, there's nothing wrong with me."

"Bev, you have concussion, you're not making sense..."

"I beg your pardon!!" That menacing arch of the eyebrow.

"You keep repeating yourself, and anyway, they're not sending an ambulance..."

"Good, see, you've just wasted time and essential services.."

"... they've got a chopper up and heading for us"

"I'm not getting in no 'flippin*' chopper!" ( * edited for the benefit of the delicate).

And off she runs again, and me with my bad back.

My phone rings, "This is the emergency helicopter from Morriston Hospital, can you give us more info on where you are?"

"We're on the upper fireroad on the eastern side of Margam mountain, between the Golf Club and Bryn, but now we're in the trees."

"Oh."

"Rob, grab a space blanket, open it up, get out in the clearing and wave like mad!"

Robert does so, managing a passable impression of a chimp learning semaphore.

I tell the helicopter peeps what we are doing, they soon spot us and land nearby.

Bev meanwhile is exhausted and submits to my gentle insistence that she go to hospital. Yeah, right, the only reason she's not running now is because the chopper cuts off her escape route!

The helicopter peeps land in a maelstrom of wind, flying gravel and those small purple plastic drinks bottles that live in the forest.

They sent out the baby red helicopter, pretty soon they have Bev strapped to a board but I could see there was only enough room for the driver, and the guy who was not the driver. Where the hell does Bev go?

"Going into a bit of a dark tunnel now luv", says the other helicopter peep who was not the driver.

Now, this sort of statement is not the thing someone who is strapped to a board and is a bit of a claustrophobe, wants to hear. Bev starts to hyperventilate "Ahuh ahuh ahuh".

"1..2..3.. lift and push..." and they start shoving her up what appears to be the engine exhaust, only square. Still, they must know what they're doing.

Clunk!

"Damn... it's stuck!"

All of a sudden there's a hammering and yelling "getmeoutgetmeoutgetmeout!"

I did mention that Bev was a tad claustrophobic didn't I?

"Pull back a bit and push again"

This time the stretcher slid through and Bev's face pops out into daylight. She takes a big lungfull of air. "Hhhnuuahhh!"

Robert and I wave our good-byes to the helicopter peeps, 'cos Bev can't see us and anyway, she couldn't wave back even if she could see us, they've strapped her down even tighter to prevent more damage to the baby chopper.

Robert being a good boy with helmet but without eye protection

Robert being a good boy with helmet but without eye protection

We slowly make our way back to the car. It begins to rain.

My stomach churns as we return home, what sort of damage has Bev suffered, broken neck, inter-cranial swelling, ripped jacket? And I made it worse by not having a map, or a GPS or anything!

It turns out Bev suffered nothing worse than a stiff neck, a mild concussion and a few grazes.

On closer examination we could see her helmet was a write off and we had to buy a new one. But, thanks be to the deity of brown dogs with black ears, her head is fine. A few nicks but structurally sound and still running like new.

I've learnt my lesson, I always have a map and compass, torch, GPS device and spare batteries, and a fully charged mobile phone. And I pray to Pluto that I never need 'em.

By the way, this is actually a true story, the phone conversation with the operator is as close to verbatim as I can remember it.

And it still makes me laugh and feel sick at the same time.


aj.






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