Giving Thanks

It was going to be the trip of a lifetime. A trio of friends, a motorcycle road trip with miles and miles of adventure - a "bucket list" trip through some of the most scenic areas of the western United States.

For most of a day it went as planned before things went sideways, literally, in early evening that first day, ending the trip with a memory much different than the ones planned.

Sidney's Roger Gallaway has ridden motorcycles for years. There's something about it, he says, that is each and every time a special experience.

"Riding is one of the most peaceful and relaxing things there is," Gallaway said.

Regular trips, long and short, have become part of his life. When weather allows, he will climb aboard his bike for an evening spin, and weekends often see a trip to somewhere within several hundred miles, easy reach for a relaxing ride with friends or family.

So when the idea of a week-long fall ride to the northwest came about, excitement grew as the date approached. The itinerary included miles northwest across Wyoming, through scenic vistas in that state and westward, culminating with the Nebraska-Oregon football game in Eugene.

In preparation for the special trip, Gallaway was able to procure his dream bike, a gun metal blue 2003 Harley Davidson Ultra Classic 100th Anniversary Edition, with only 43,000 miles. For a month, he took it out every chance he got – familiarizing himself with the weight, the power, and operation of the machine.

The morning of the ride, he and friends, Jim and son Jeff Heller, checked their gear one last time and headed out. At their first Wyoming stop, in Torrington, they gassed up the bikes. As they prepared for the trip's next leg, his friends stowed their helmets.

With no helmet law in Wyoming, it wasn't an unusual move. They had all done it many times before. But that day, Gallaway had a fleeting thought of hesitation before putting his helmet away as well.

"I kind of shrugged my shoulders and put mine away too," he said.

At Casper, they stopped for lunch, fueling both their bodies and bikes before continuing their journey. The ride continued from there across U.S. Highway 26, but about 5 miles east of Shoshoni, a patch of loose gravel changed the entire trip.

Riding in the trail position, Gallaway swayed a little close to the road's edge and his bike slid slightly. Moving to recover, Gallaway went off the road and onto the shoulder. He pointed back toward the road surface, but immediately worried about over correcting. The bike then went off the shoulder, this time onto dirt and rock. For a split second he thought about trying to ride it out down into the ditch, but told himself, "Rog, you'll never make it." As he tried to bring the bike back up a second time, he found himself quickly lining up with a delineator pole. In a matter of seconds Gallaway swerved back and forth trying to control the 800-pound motorcycle, all to no avail.

The bike went airborne after hitting the pole head-on, rolling, with dust, parts, and rider flying in different directions. Gallaway came to rest near the next reflector pole, with the bike landing a bit farther down the road.

As is the case with group rides, Gallaway's riding partners kept track of each other on a regular basis. When Jim saw Gallaway's bike go flying and the cloud of dust in his mirror, they quickly turned around, half afraid of what they might find.

"They thought I was going to be dead," Gallaway said. But in a quick self-inventory, he said he felt "for the most part I was okay."

But he didn't look it. One shoulder had deep abrasions, his back hurt, and most concerning was a gash on his head that was shooting blood profusely.

They called 911 after finding a spot with enough cell reception to report the accident, then it took 20 minutes for the ambulance to arrive out of Riverton. With an apparent head injury, coupled with the distance to the hospital, discussion included the possibility of having a helicopter transport him to the hospital. Faced with the decision, Gallaway was clear-headed enough to choose a little extra time on the ground over the cost of the helicopter.

Upon arrival in Riverton, emergency room workers began to go over his injuries, which outside of the skin injuries, proved not to be serious. One of the most amazing, "I didn't have a cracked skull," Gallaway said.

* * * * * *

Back in Sidney, Gallaway's son John and his family were sitting down to supper when the phone rang.

John saw it was from one of his dad's riding partners, mentally wondering "why would he be calling me?"

"John, it's your dad," the voice said. The call went silent, and the tension mounted as the younger Gallaway waited to hear the rest. But the call had been cut off, another delay from the poor cell signal the group had already fought.

Jeff walked outside and made connection again, telling John that his dad had been in an accident, filling in what details he could. At that point they felt Roger was basically okay, but was in testing to see if there were injuries not externally seen.

John and his family packed up immediately, food still on the table, and headed toward Riverton.

It was a quiet trip, John said. Knowing his father wasn't in critical condition was a comfort, but concern remained.

"They hadn't done many tests yet, so we didn't know what kind of internal injuries he might have," John said.

Through that time John remembered a text he had received that morning before his dad left on the trip.

"It was more affectionate than normal," John remembers. "It was kind of weird." Gallaway had asked John to check on things while he was gone, but had also gone on to say that he was very proud of the dad John had become to his own two boys, and that he loved them all.

* * * * * *

Sitting in an emergency room nearly 400 miles away doctors determined there were no internal injuries. The "road rash" on his shoulder was cleaned and covered, then the discussion turned to his head, where so much tissue was missing doctors didn't know for sure if it could be repaired. Stitches were ruled out, Gallaway said, because they wouldn't be able to hold with the pressures involved. Staples would be best, but the size of the gap made success questionable.

Staples ultimately became the choice, preferred over the risk of leaving the skin open. Pulling the skin together, doctors were able to close the gap enough to close the wound and improve the chances for healing.

By the time his treatment was complete, the clock was approaching midnight. John and family arrived at that time, finally seeing first-hand that dad and grandfather was okay. "The timing was perfect," John said. "He was just getting discharged."

Gallaway had hours before sent his riding partners to eat and make sure they could find a motel room, assuring them he would be okay. With the arrival of his family, the group also went to eat, for all of them a much needed time of reunion.

Having had to rush away from supper, the meal was especially welcome for the younger Gallaways, who had become understandably tired and impatient as their hunger grew. It was one of Gallaway's grandchildren, as often happens with children, who provided unintentional comic relief to the situation as they sat down to eat.

"Grandpa," said six-year-old Braxton, "if you're going to have an accident, why don't you do it closer to home next time."

* * * * * *

Gallaway said the affection he showed his son before the trip began was expressed to all of his children that morning. He doesn't know why – he just wanted to make sure each of them knew how he felt about them. There's never been doubt about his love for them, but he didn't always make a big deal over demonstrating it.

That's one of the things Gallaway can't explain about that day. It was just something that came about, just like the slight hesitation of putting his helmet away.

Today, months later, Gallaway sometimes still stretches to understand many of the things that happened. First and foremost is surviving the crash.

"I absolutely don't understand why, and am amazed, that I lived through it," Gallaway said. "It has never been lost on me how extremely fortunate I was."

Gallaway has always had a respect for how precious life is, shown in part over time that while he hasn't always been demonstrative with his feelings, has been aware of having quality time with his children. His Facebook followers have seen over time pictures with them, treated by the looks of joy on their faces.

The accident, he said, "has driven home just how fragile life is. I now understand how in the snap of a finger how quickly you can go."

More than ever, he continued, "I'm thankful to be part of my kids' lives."

He has continued to struggle, off and on, with surviving what nearly everyone, including himself, believes could well have been a fatal accident. But he recently found a powerful quotation that has affected him deeply, and uses it as inspiration when questioning his fortune.

"God didn't add another day in your life because you needed it. He added it because someone out there needs you." Unknown

He tears up slightly as he read the words, overwhelmed by the experience, and the words that make him think about his new lease on life, wondering what it might bring.

* * * * * *

Even with the experience, Gallaway doesn't think he will stop riding. He goes back to how relaxing it is, believing at this point it can still be part of his life.

"Of course, I don't have a bike to ride anymore," he observes with his wry sense of humor.

Still, his approach to riding is different.

"If I ride again, I wouldn't do it without a helmet," he said. The incident also had an immediate effect on the Hellers, who he said rode with helmets on for the remainder of their trip.

Grateful no one else was injured in the accident, he has also spent some time thinking about others who he has ridden with or had as passengers.

"I'm not so worried about me," he said when thinking about riding, "but if I would let my daughter ride with me again... that's a tough question."

Those decisions are for the future. As he heals and decides whether or not to replace the motorcycle, he has only one real plan...

To continue enjoying those around him and appreciate the chance to savor life.