I crashed in Mission

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I don't know if my fascination with the details of what happened in an accident that I don't remember is typical of folks in this situation -- all I know is that I have that feeling in a bad way.

I called the Crow Wing County Sheriff's office midweek to request a copy of the accident report, to help fill in missing details and also in the hopes of identifying the passing motorist who stopped, summoned help and reassured me in those first moments, so that I could thank her properly. (The woman at the Sheriff's office who helped me was about the kindest records keeper you could imagine picking up the receiver.)

Unfortunately, the motorist isn't identified in the report, so my next plan is to talk to the officer on the scene, who returns to work at the end of the week and hopefully knows the motorist or how to reach her. The report does provide some helpful details:

• First responders were on scene at 8:43 p.m. My loose reckoning places the crash at about 8:30 (based on when I left Crosslake), so thankfully, very little time seems to have passed between going down and getting help.
  
  
• The crash site is about halfway between Crosslake and Crosby, in the unincorporated township of Mission, Minnesota. Wow, there's an opening line, eh? "I'm Eric, survivor of the crash in Mission." (Friends, please rein me in, for I fear my potential to create all manner of horrible metaphor and saccharine symbolism.) Of course, if you zoom in on the crash site, you might notice that the adjacent body of water is (aptly?) named Fool Lake.
  
  
• There doesn't appear to be anything particularly treacherous (hairpin turns, etc.) with the road near the accident site, which keeps me wondering about animals leaping into the roadway or mechanical troubles with the bike. There's some kind of reassurance in this, since the aspect of this accident that most threatens to undermine my confidence in the saddle is not knowing whether I messed up a situation that I should have been able to handle. (Never messing up in the saddle isn't a realistic expectation of oneself, either, but some external impetus for the crash would be easier for me to accept. Alas, perfectionism has its downsides.)

The Rooster remains in storage in Deerwood, while the insurance folks figure out how to move it to Motoprimo in Lakeville, to estimate the damages. It's not yet clear whether the bike will be totaled.

In other respects, healing seems on track: I'm feeling pretty comfortable (apart from drowsiness brought on by my pain meds) and am very excited to see Julie a few days from now, and for the rest of the summer. Speaking of whom (and the stuff I put her through!), since the accident, I've had a particular track from the (Olympic) Hopefuls in my head. I hope you enjoy it.