Loren Mason-Gere is a pleasant, earnest, forty-something guy who moved to Patagonia a couple of years ago from Montana. He grew up in southern Oregon. He liked the way this region felt; some sort of sweetness that’s hard to define, but which a lot of us have felt before deciding to relocate here. He liked the small community and the surrounding lands, which is important since running and the bicycle are big parts of his life.
A bit more than a month ago, Mason-Gere had gone out for a brisk morning ride, down Harshaw Creek, across Apache Rd. and past the mine. He headed back between 7 and 8am. On his way home, he crossed a piece of road that was rougher than most: a set of dips and shallow swales.
He glanced ahead and saw, coming the other way, a heavy construction machine—a road grader, as it turned out—which was moving at moderate speed, followed by trucks owned by South32. Just as they got to the same spot, according to Mason-Gere, the grader abruptly turned left into the bike’s path. Surprised, Mason-Gere swerved wide to the right, attempting to outflank the clumsy machine. That failed. His bike collided with the grader, which was ten yards long and weighed about 3,000 pounds.
The bike was trashed, as were his hand, left scapula, and several ribs. His head and helmet were unscathed, as was the road machine.
It was Mason-Gere’s good luck that a woman in one of the trucks just behind the machine had medical training and first-aid supplies which she quickly deployed. Before it ended, Mason-Gere had his first helicopter ride to Tucson’s Banner Hospital, which could cost him—or someone— around 60 grand, along with other medical expenses. At present, with PT and patience, he is healing well.
The grader was a county vehicle. It did not belong to the mines. The driver told a deputy, when he was interviewed, that, at the time of impact, his machine was standing still, and that the bike had just plowed into him. No doubt there are courtrooms and lawyers ahead. Meanwhile, Mason-Gere is glad he isn’t dead.
Slightly horrified by some people’s eagerness to crow “I told you so!” due to their abhorrence of the mine, which they see as a threat to us all hereabouts, Mason-Gere simply hopes, at the least, that his mishap can be a wake-up call for both the mines and all the folks who walk or ride out in the hills.
The PRT may have follow-up on this after the Sheriff releases a full incident report.