Date: 7/9/03
Author: Mike Bailey

Mike Bailey

I used to windsurf quite a lot back in the days when the only straps you had were the ones to fasten the board to your car roof. I loved the speed and the water and, after a few years, got quite good. I did many other sports too, mainly the type that gave you that OMG feeling when you stopped to get your heart back in your mouth. The one thing I used to do every day without fail was ride my motorcycle. It was this passion that has brought me indirectly to tell you this story.

12 Years ago, whilst living in Paris, I came upon a man in a car. I saw him quite clearly drive past a long line of stopped cars at the traffic lights and I do remember thinking that he had better get those brakes on soon. I had no idea that he was drunk, an illegal immigrant with no insurance and unable to speak French or English. His speed was estimated to be around 60 mph and I was stationary when he hit me.

I flew gracefully backwards in perfect slow motion. It was like being sucked into a silent hole behind me. I still have vivid memories of people turning in horror, my 500-pound motorcycle turning in mid air and punching me gently in the face. Then, after what seemed to be a period of 'different' time, I hit the ground hard, bike on top of me. In an instant the sound returned. Time resumed its normal pace and I began a very interesting journey starting with three hours on a Paris sidewalk trying to scream. 11 Months later they let me out of the hospital without one of the legs I went in with.

It would be a lengthy tale to recount what happened next. Needless to say, numerous challenges were offered to me, at which many I succeeded, but some didn't seem to be within my reach. One of these things, which kept teasing my dreams, was wakeboarding. I kept driving to a local lake and watching. I must have been 40 or 50 times over the course of 2 years, just watching and trying to figure things out.

I know without any doubt that I cannot do certain things. Sometimes it is because of mechanical constraints and sometimes it is knowing how your own body can or will react to certain situations. Some of these activities I have just walked away from, knowing that real injury would prevail. For example, I did spend 45 minutes stuffing my false leg into some in-line skates once, only to realize 15 seconds after nearly snapping my knee off that it was maybe not the best thing for my particular ability.

Watching over the years turned gradually into confidence that I could do it. Chelsea, my very supportive and sometimes despairing girl, had been quietly busy in the background. We sat together one morning with coffee and lots of birthday presents. As I opened the last one, I had to force back the tears in my eyes. It was a wakeboarding lesson. We both smiled and tried to ignore the fact that we both had "something in our eyes." After all this time, the one thing I needed to push me forward was something that we all have inside us, but sometimes it takes a loved one to bring it out of you. Pride. I wanted this for me and I wanted it for Chelsea too.

I was still not sure if I would sink or if my knee would snap off, but I had a renewed vigor. I WAS going to do it. There was nothing to stop me apart from what I had in my own head. All I needed to do was get some basics, ask a few questions and get on with it. I asked the people on WakeWorld's Discussion Board and they gave me a lot of support. I also spoke to the instructor at the lake, whose blasé attitude actually gave me even more confidence.

When we arrived at the lake, I was happy to see that there was not a large queue of people waiting. I was ready, pumped and proud, but still secretly worried about so many things. It had been decided, due to my carbon fiber foot, that the traditional boot style bindings would not fit, so the school tried some Velcro style ones. The problem here was that my foot is only about 1/4 inch thick and maybe 2.5 inches wide, so even with the Velcro bindings, my foot was not being held at all. I was beginning to think it was not going to happen, but one of the guys found a pair of training shoes, which I slipped onto my foot and then into the binding.

All looked good and we headed to the boat. They asked me what foot I would kick a ball with or what foot I would put first if I was sliding on ice. It was a bit of a shock. Not the questions, but the fact that after all these years I had finally forgotten what it was like to have two legs. "I have no idea," I said. So we decided to try it with the false leg in the rear (which is called goofy) first.

After a surprisingly short talk about what I would do, we drove out onto the lake and stopped. As I slid the board over the side and looked down, I remember seeing my false leg, the board and the water. My heart was beating quite fast. I was excited. Chelsea was in the front of the boat with her camera. She winked at me and I beamed back at her.

I dropped into the water and sank slowly down like on a little elevator. Then the board came easily up in front of me. My leg seemed to be holding up ok and I felt pretty cool actually! I was told to reach up and grab the boom on which I was getting started and keep the board where it was until I rose out of the water.

Big engine noise, lots of water in my face, arms shouting, "Nooooo!" (They had not had too much exercise for a while) and I was up. However, it felt wrong. I was moving up the lake, arse sticking out the back like most do on their first time, holding on for grim death, but my legs felt very wrong. My false one was behind and, with the angle of the boom and the board in the water, it meant that I was on virtual tiptoes on my back foot. Seeing as how I don't have any toes and my ankle is fixed at 90 degrees, it was very uncomfortable. We went up and down another two times, but it got no better. I told the instructor that it felt wrong. We swapped the bindings around and I tried again.

Big engine noise, lots of water in my face, etc. and I was up again. Ahh, this time it felt much better. My false leg on the front made a big difference. The instructor told me that I had progressed to a stage where I did not need to stick my arse out anymore (which was surprisingly better) and I was whooshing up the lake.

"I want you to slowly go hand over hand, grab the rope on the end of the pole and see if you can work your way back to the handle," he said. Fantastic, I didn't like that pole. It seemed like it was too much of an aid to me, so I was keen to progress to the rope on a pole. On the first try I got a hold of the rope in one hand, went to grab it with the other hand, then went left and right and left and right very quickly seeing as how the rope portion I was holding was only four inches away from the pole itself.

I was pleasantly surprised at how spectacular my first crash and burn was. It was a cross between going very quickly in one direction then being stopped from the feet down and immediately eating the lake in a big way! Brilliant! All in the boat were smiling. Chelsea took photos. She looked a little concerned, but then saw my smile. My leg actually came off underwater when I crashed this time. It did concern me at first, but seeing as it was still attached to the board, I just reached down and stuck it back on again. Ready again? Oh yes! On the second try, I still got a bit of left-right stuff, but I controlled it. Then, hand over hand, hand over hand, wobble. "Look forward," the instructor shouted from the boat, "or you will..." Splash! Another perfect double summersault back flip dismount from the one legged man. Brilliant again.

Let's go some more. After two more goes, I had that rope sussed. The clock was ticking though and I needed to do the rope on its own. No pole, just me, the rope and the board.

The first deep-water start ended before it had begun with my face in the water. It seemed very hard to control the direction of the board with my actually very small leg. As we started, the board would twitch uncontrollably against my false leg. The guys on the boat didn't think it was my leg. They said I was doing what many beginners do, which was music to my ears. "Keep the board where it is until you are out of the water," they said.

The next time I did exactly that. With knees tight to my chest, I let the board plane sideways in the water. Slowly I began to rise with water cascading all ways. I was really going to do it! Before I knew it, I was up. The board had almost automatically pointed forwards and I WAS DOING IT. It felt absolutely fantastic skimming across the water, going left and right, leaning back a little. It felt completely natural. I looked over to the boat and all were cheering. Chelsea was beaming.

Out and back I went. I could not believe the awesome feeling of freedom I felt. My false leg had disappeared completely. It had no relevance to what I was doing for the first time in many, many years. As I went back and forth, I even tried putting little bits of pressure on the board. It felt that stable and natural to me.

I let out a scream of Whoooo Hoooo, laughing so hard my jaw hurt. Chelsea and the guys on the boat were still clapping and cheering. I began to shout, "This is..." I am not sure now what I was going to say, but I think I caught an edge. I flipped sideways for another perfect dismount while I swallowed another three gallons of water. Wow! What a feeling. I sat in the water looking over to the boat. I was glowing with pleasure. With Chelsea's help, I had just realized a dream. I remember thinking to myself when the boat was easing its way back to me, "I wont ever stop doing this. It has released me from somewhere I used to be and I love it!"

We only got one more chance that day. The time was up and the guys had a competition to prepare for. My final ride was as fantastic as the last - natural freedom and a very painful jaw. We changed and drove home. Smiling to ourselves. Something very special had happened that day to both of us.

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