French showers, an adventure in Colmar
[picasaView album=’ADR2005′ directview]The French showers has its name from, that
1. it is made in France.
2. you compare it with in France 2 makes pretty Frenchwoman.
However, I had to work out this enjoyment somewhat tedious:
Actually, I just wanted to Steffen H. and the gsi-salvors Jack, Andi drive and Co. at the Anneau du Rhin, to once again strongly urge the knee slider in the Alsatian asphalt. The first organizational difficulty for me it was, to find a matching ring companions, because my monster a little longer stood in the workshop, the preferred 14/39 Get secondary teeth. On a tip from Hannes D. out but I asked the organizer directly to, also what if the confer, and after a short phone call I was promised a CBR600RR as "Ring Companion".
The outward journey on Friday, The 20.Mai 2005 was uneventful; The hotel has been found equal to, and we met with the other from Austria to the professional catering in Breisach with very suddenly reduced food selection from 22:00 To test clock. Service sector than on the island of the blessed state of the 60s 70s, when you were still a customer petitioners. The target group of visitors of the region seems clearly to have come out of that geological era, Not for this service appears to be normal.
Unfortunately we received the Saturday with the worst scenario, can imagine a Ring Driver: Rain.
Slightly tense we drove back to the pits, where I immediately picked up my CBR. Fascinated, I watched with Steffen two identical CBR1000RR Repsol Honda in the original factory-war paint. The proud owner, in honor of a graying Weiskopf eagle couple with long feathers around the head 50, completed the whole picture with its original factory leather Dainese Repsol combinations. After a brief explanation of the friendly organizer I received an almost brand new CBR with only 800km on the clock. A look at the unfamiliar Dunlop D213 (or was it 218?) gave me slight discomfort. An unknown to me motorcycle, I completely unknown tires in an unfamiliar terrain in the rain let my skepticism forehead into a washboard from worry lines. My very obvious facial expression was then very properly interpreted and easily smoothed with a ".. the maturity useful Subbe". With the kind words: "Use it as if it were your own," the friendly gentleman handed me the keys. How did he probably meant? Does he, how I deal with my things? Well, weakness in my cleaning falls well 2 Use days not so much weight. We prepared the bikes on ring operation: Mask off and turn signal lights, Disassemble the mirror and volume measurement. After grouping our first turn was driven in the rain, what prompted me, überzustreifen but the rain suit.
I was surprised, how can an angle but also in the rain to ride the curve, as long as one maintains a smooth soulful style of driving. The next two turns of the dried coating along the racing line then more and more and it went a bit faster progress.
After I lost my initial shyness, I was then but actually the first problem with this small displacement high-revving dwarf. Since I was a friend of the two-cylinder and thus maximum 4 Digit speeds initially had a great timidity, the engine to turn higher, I suddenly lost contact with the output curve at the front man, even though I already sensational 8000 Revolutions / minute had it!
I milked like a gymnast stretching the throttle, but instead of a cow aufjaulenden I had a tame, quietly whimpering oxen from the petting zoo with me. Spontaneously came over me the saving grace: I have to switch back! A brief prediction on the gear lever changed somewhat: The pointer of the tachometer jumped slightly high, and the operating noise was slightly louder. The disappearance of the nimble vehicle ahead but this was unfortunately not stopped. A repeated steppes on the gear lever, of course without clutch, as befits a wannabe racers, breathed the tame ox with a short jerk suddenly new reproductive organs and commented on the action with a satisfied easily angry, hotter roar. The view of the tachometer already showed 13 000 revolutions per minute of the crankshaft and it was the first time the impression of a real acceleration. Na bitte, but goes!
Encouraged by the feedback of the polynuclear again "erstierten" Displacement dwarf Ochses I stitched down a gear again – of course without clutch – and had to fight as a receipt for my mangy behavior abruptly with a front hochgelupften, commented by a rapidly flashing red warning light on the tachometer, which immediately put me very close to a gear change. „Wau!“, I thought, "So you have to sow er Ox, So turn, then what really goes further!"As I braked late scary, which indeed always worked better because of the dry-in roadway, I arrived just before the finish ran again to the group, and could not give me a contented "moo" under the helmet resist. Now it was always brisk progress and I experimented diligently around with the gear shift, I had absolutely no routine with such a high-speed concepts. Of course I do not need to mention, I like that again a few times easily lost contact, because an incorrect gear selection ahead of the curve with a displacement dwarf may already be annoying.
But no later than 2 Anbremszonen was done the problem again, and the curve you just saw me for a lower gear before. Then suddenly it was midday. I could still remember well, as we ate a flame fritters, and Gsiberger came to visit and some photos shot. [Section]
I'm in a white room on the back and feel like in a dream within a dream, I wake up slowly from the, but I am still trapped in unreality. It's as if my mind, my thoughts slowly begins to synchronize with my body, only lacks to me a sensible explanation, and somehow I probably just wait it, to wake up in my bed at home. I look to my right side of the head and behind the Barbara Steffen. Somehow, the then too real, and I begin to address the two figures. The following dialogue was prepared from the statements of the two re-, I can almost do nothing more errinnern.
I: W-W-Where am I?
S/B: In Colmar.
I: What we have done?
S: Motorcycling
I: How come we are here?
S: By Bus
I: Who's down?
S: Ja du!
I: In twos?
S: No brabra was also present
I: What happened?
S: You've had a highside
I: With the motorcycle?
S: Jaaa!
I: And? High air as?
S: And, as far as I could see the.
The above dialogue took on a repeat 3malige, where my questions were almost always in the same order. Thoughtful gives me my last question, where it must still have been incredibly important to me probably delirious, to have made at least a spectacular finish.
I then telephoned still with my girlfriend and my parents, or rather, Steffen called and held out the phone to me, and told, that I am well, and that everything was in order. Also, since I'll have to have certain things repeatedly asked, I do not know nothing more of it anyway.
Also a nurse I should have driven through a filthy remark again. Luckily, I know of nothing.
Then, the inventory was:
Clavicle: Comminuted fracture, Elbow: Joint contusion with thick
Bursa, Bruised ribs left, Contusion of the right hand and a
severe concussion with a slight brain hemorrhage.
Barbara told me, I have the CT (Computed tomography) was, and that everything is not so bad. I thanked him for still come along, apologized for the inconvenience that I had prepared and that I would have messed us the weekend strong. At least pretends my memory before the, whether it is actually true, have to tell the other. I lay there like a helpless beetle on the back and looked at my right hand, which was so blue and swollen like a winter glove.
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What was happening, again from the story of my backer:
Explanation of Steffen, the better is the remaining part for obvious reasons, in memory:
The framework:
We were in the "very fast" group (So the fastest of five instructor groups) on the way, of the 05er Hebbe spear on his GSX-R 1000 was instructed on Michelin Pilot Power. I had practical as well as new pilot power on the R6, I foresighted as me this last after the highside at Michelin Power Day at the Nürburgring year have already give to be in the appropriate dimensions. So I had nothing to worry about, whether because the liability on a wet track with the instructor would be comparable ...
The first turn after lunch was after my memory still dry, by Kasper and various estates in passing on the paddock the pace began to slow, to be a bit more interesting, so that when passing on the paddock no time for funny photo poses remained. However, it turned out, that the "very fast" group quite strongly mixed and, potential seen by the driving skills, was more heterogeneous. For this reason, I introduced myself as possible to prepare for the turn with Richie behind me always directly behind the instructor, which had two advantages: For one, I was able to lead the line in to rest my mind already in the warm up lap, on the other hand I had at least one lap behind the instructor "in the bag". Here, but also turned out, especially like that it was a demolition of large parts of the group under this constellation with increasing speed. So as it happened in the second turn after lunch, towards 15:00. The run round and the first half of the first flying lap was still nice and dry, so that it was getting more interesting halfway reasonable pace. After half of the first fast lap but put a relatively heavy rain, which comprehensively covered the distance in a short time with water. To my amazement, the pace only slightly decreased Hebbe and I must admit – although I do not really get along so badly with rain on the track - it's just that I hinbekam with something about wine dung and blind trust in the highly acclaimed Pilot Power and our instructor, to give rise to no distance between me and Hebbe. Accordingly, the rather high pace for the conditions also ripped this time of contact with the rest of the group from the more, so I could only bide from traveling directly behind me Richie when switching on the line, while the rest of the group was apparently just too short, to catch up again. So I drove right now so(= As. three to five meters) behind Richie ago, However, the obvious had similar concerns about liability, which, in conjunction with the unusual base to, Herbert the spear disappeared relatively quickly and Richie and I took quite a lot of distance forward and backward through the pouring rain on the CoR.
At the output of the long plated right-hander before the FlicFlac then unfortunately I had to see, as Richie was pretty quite suddenly across. I fervently hoped, that he would somehow bring the drift control, because I pretty much knew the face of this movement, what would otherwise happen next - especially since I naturally looked at me and himself in danger, da ich ja direkt, So really _direkt_ behind him was.
Unfortunately, my hope was not fulfilled and the next moment I was given the, what was happening there before me, feel, which can be expressed even by the most powerful and iinbrünstigste out cries of a common Fäkalbegriffs not even begin to. Richie was thrown from the motorcycle back bucking up in the air, and for a while I was in shock and impotent concern, all available senses and muscle coordination systems were also busy, a path between Richie (It catapulted the relatively far to the right) to find and especially Richie motorcycle on the right side and the edge of the track on the left, to the fiasco not to be completed by a finish of my hand. Also, if my adrenalinisiertes at this time to below the skull reaction system was fully utilized and thankfully successfully acted, I put in the corner of my eye but firmly, Dass Richie, than in the corner of the eye from the air he hit right diagonally back on the asphalt, showed no activity, to its sliding phase to control somehow. In other words,: His body slithered his arms hanging and sagging body on the asphalt. Also, if you want the normal and I do not even know the, I decided at short notice, looking for a reasonably safe Stellezu, slowed my bike to a stop and turned around, to look after Richie. It marshals immediately rushed to him, so that I the loud calls of passing instructors followed after a few seconds of hesitation and ansteuerte my way back to the paddock. Barbara there was probably quite happy, at least to see me, because you had heard the bang of the Highsiders to the paddock and was assumed, that such a sound could not be caused by a single motorcycle - the return of the entire group instructor with the exception of Richie and me you probably had also added neat. Next, we waited a few minutes, until the ambulance arrived in the paddock. It was a great relief, See Richie in there with your eyes open and apparently regained consciousness to. Apparently he had at that time already great ambition, to learn the local language and repeated several times "clavicule" and the translation "clavicle".
After some time to come down we went with the Sprinter and Richie looked after in the emergency room, to learn, what now is the state of things and Heike, the way, had called a few minutes after the fall time on Richies cell phone, to provide information gesichtere. [Additions otherwise: The helmet is torn decent, which indeed relatively rare - and conveniently, no isses also been really bad helmet ...; You hurry am Sonntag morgen um 7:00 called me and babble, that I should gather together your things in the room - what I would have done anyway, aber ich wollte an dem Morgen nach den Vorkommnissen des Vortages mal etwas ausschlafen 😉
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"What a shit", I thought, "I never go more motorcycle, so it makes no fun "and told my Botty equal to my final decision to temporarily. I got a bottle of paracetamol intravenously administered directly which should guarantee me a quiet pain-free night. Pain-free, it was in fact, if one does not involve a screaming room environment with colleagues in the more. With loud, moaning and elongated "Serviiiiiice, Serviiiiice "cries he called the nurses every hour because he probably was not able to press the call button itself. After all, it managed my roommate schmerzgepeinigter, by this very loud, pervasive Call, I was immediately by pressing the Schwesternrufknopfes very pleased and very fast help. The moaning got a bit quieter, and sent me into a slight, twilight hour flat, Ready at any time until the next use.
Fortunately, I was moved before breakfast in another room. There was an older gentleman, M. Bösch, which even the German language was powerful, and finally was able to translate everything to me, what the gay, funny giggling nurses wanted to tell me everything.
M. Bösch spoke with a accent Alemannic, and told me reassuringly, I need not have worried, I was in capable hands, and we would be well looked after here. When the morning with a melidiösen "Bon Jour", ausziseliert fine as in a language school – soars from the mouth of a pretty smiling nurse – begins, then I had to give the old man absolutely right. I could give you the right nor Monsieur Bösch, I was allowed to learn at once, as you gave me to understand, to lift me out of bed. Since I was still so weak and dizzy attacked four gentle limp body in my arms and helped me, sit up slowly and very carefully. I felt like I was drunk without alcohol and out of the many French giggling sounds I could hear a "La Douche". "And, Showering would be fine ", I thought, "I sweated like a Sicilian cement mixer under the midday sun, and the bed was wetted by my sweat "
Only as? I could not even hold true even on the legs! Mr Bösch me then translated, that the two nice pretty nurses would now go with me into the shower. “He, I booked 1st class?"I thought to myself, and before I could even wonder, I stumbled into a shuffling geräumigesBadezimmer, and before I knew it, got rid of one of the nurses in my nightgown, and the other pulled my pants down to his ankles. Trembling, I stepped out of the fallen, sweaty and certainly very unpleasant smelly underpants. Before I could wonder about the service, had a nurse, no – not taken off her coat, but put me behind the shower running and hugged me gently under the well-tempered water jet. Before I upset by the gentle nudges due to my absent vestibular, was already on the other side of the second nurse and began my tottering mass elegant and gently. So I stood unsteadily in the shower and was supported on the flanks of two cute giggling French nurses. Immediately, the two K sisters began with soap washcloth soaked to rid my sweaty body from the top layer of dirt. From the broad peak to the broad soles. They were extremely thorough and accurate ago, to toe interstices whose work spanned. Of course, the gap between the two big toes was liberated very carefully and cleanly from dirt and sweat.
Also during drying of the sensitive areas of the body you were extremely cautiously, and I already had my back chemise open back, and was slowly brought back to my now two other nice Frenchwomen freshly made bed, flanked and supported by my two Reinigungsfeen.
Then I got my breakfast brought, and since I could practically do not use cutlery (You have to imagine similar benebeltes, handed breakfast with winter gloves, so not really ideal for fine motor games) the buns were still cut me right and topped with butter and jam, and divided into small bite-sized pieces. That was to be a nice Serviiiiice! But my pride commanded halt, as the nice French lady even wanted me Feed, I smiled and grabbed demonstratively even after sliced bread. Unfortunately, I failed miserably when trying to drink from the cup of coffee, because it simply was not possible to me, to thread my aching little bendable forefinger of the right hand through the bottleneck of the cup Henkel. Smiling maid brought me my cup a suitable replacement, it allowed me to drink relaxes the morning coffee. As far as one can call it relaxed, lying in bed drinking from a plastic Sippy Cup.
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To 10 Clock came to visit my sweet Botty, which made me very happy, and remained about even the day with me. Steffen, Barbara and Jack visited me and then took my wagon and even with my glasses. And so I spent the days until Wednesday at the hospital in Colmar, and looked forward to every morning, I with a gentle delicate "Bon Jour" fine ausziseliert as in a language school – soars from the mouth of a pretty smiling nurse – was awakened. Wednesday morning began to have 5 Clock, when I heard a loud rattle from outside. The noise sounded somehow helicopters and machine guns. The sounds of war have been getting louder and then a couple of military helicopters just flew away over the hospital, supported by the remote Maschinengewehrgeknatter. Somehow I felt in a scene from any Vietnam movie set: I field hospital and cool background music of Jimmy Hendrix. A training area very close to a civilian hospital! I was told, that probably because the Foreign Legion would probably practice for any terrorist operations. The Arbeitersamariterbund then picked me up and brought me into the BG-Clinic to Frankfurt, where I to 24:00 Clock in the evening was received by the strong night nurse Erna. This suddenly very German to me, Jigsaw, but somehow friendly, but not intolerable contradictions hardness in his voice, even before the accident surgeon spurts, I missed almost a culture shock. But no matter, I was almost back home, had only a night and a day nurse get to see, and a small square cleaning lady with obbligato headscarf and infinitive language immediately took the food dishes again. The personnel expenses was in Frankfurt by a factor 4 lower than in France and the visual elegance of the cleaning lady like the Battle of Nations Monument afloat extremely motivated me to start the first test suite shower. On Friday afternoon I was then discharged from the hospital Casualty Hospital after a successful EEG. My monster now still awaiting the merchants, unlike me, but intact, and long waiting with fresh Serviiiiice on my pickup.