Travis Dorman

Knoxville (Tenn.) News Sentinel

KNOXVILLE, Tenn. — Mice and chipmunks scurried across Kevin Diepenbrock's body as he lay immobile on the earth beneath "The Dragon." As a seasoned outdoorsman, he listened to the sounds of the night and knew something bigger lurked in the darkness — he feared a bear.

The day before, Diepenbrock and Phillip Polito, his riding companion and co-worker at a natural gas plant near Philadelphia, tumbled more than 100 feet down a rocky embankment after their motorcycles collided near mile marker 4 on a notorious stretch of U.S. Highway 129 called "The Dragon."

Polito, 29, of Perryville, Mo., was killed in the Oct. 15 crash, and the 41-year-old Diepenbrock — with two punctured lungs, 17 breaks in 12 ribs, and multiple spinal fractures — could barely move.

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"Phil reminded me of me, a younger version of me," Diepenbrock said on Monday, sitting up in a chair at the University of Tennessee Medical Center. He was doing much better, he said: he had managed to walk a couple laps around the room that morning.

"There wasn't a whole lot of seriousness between us," he continued. "We'd always joke around and clown around and stuff like that. Phil could bring people together. He was just a character."

Due to the steepness of the embankment, Diepenbrock, Polito and the two motorcycles were flung out of sight, hidden from the many motorists who get a thrill from the road's sharp curves and scenic views. Every time Diepenbrock heard the exhaust of a passing motorcycle, he called out in desperation, but no one could hear his voice.

"I don't know how anybody could have heard me," Diepenbrock said. "Nobody stopped. ... I had moved just a little bit. I tried pulling myself over with a limb at one point, but I think at that point there was too much pain, and I passed out. I pretty much couldn't move."

He attempted to post statuses on Facebook saying "911 on the Dragon," and he tried to text his parents and his wife, Courtney, who often stayed at their home in LaPlace, La., while her husband and Polito went on their biking excursions. He had no cellphone service, and nothing went through.

Night came, and so did the thirst. Diepenbrock, originally from Greenville, Texas, had previously trained to be a first responder, and he knew he would dehydrate if he couldn't get a drink. He could hear a creek 10 feet away from where he lay, constantly bubbling, tempting him. He was unable to gather the strength to drag his 6-foot-4-inch, 350-pound frame to the water, so he pulled down vines from above him and licked the leaves for a minuscule amount of moisture.

"I was down there the whole night," he said. "People have come up and told me that the area is really famous for rattlesnakes and hogs and bears and stuff like that. ... I thought for sure that a bear was going to come by and tag me. Fortunately I made it through the whole night."

Diepenbrock was laying beneath the embankment for 30 hours, he said. He could hear every motorcycle that passed, but his yelling was futile. He began to take several videos with his cellphone in which he explained what had happened and said his final goodbyes to his parents and his wife.

"The next-to-last (video) was that morning," he said. "I was like, 'It's been a while, nobody's come. I can't get ahold of anybody. I love you guys.' I ran out of battery juice. I turned off my cell signal because nothing had gone through, and I was trying to save my cellphone for that last video. Then I turned off my cell service, and my battery was completely dead. That was when I thought, 'I'm done.'"

That was about the time when a woman and her date drove by on a motorcycle. She told him to pull over so she could get a drink, and that was when Diepenbrock thinks she must have heard him yelling. At first, the couple couldn't see him from their vantage point high above the ravine, so they went to a nearby photography shop, 129 Photos, to get help. They returned with an Alabama man named Joshua Johnson who moved to the edge until he spotted Diepenbrock trying to get his attention.

"Josh came sliding down," Diepenbrock said. "I just remember this guy and he's got his full helmet on, full race gear from a sport bike-type situation. This guy seemed like he was just bounding down the hill for me."

Johnson worked with the Blount County Rescue Squad and various emergency responders to load Diepenbrock on a back brace and pull him up roughly 105 feet of rocks and trees using ropes and pulleys. Diepenbrock was "squeezed into the helicopter," he said, and was airlifted to the Univerity of Tennessee Medical Center, where he was initially listed in critical condition. He has since recovered with the help of physical therapists.

Diepenbrock wouldn't allow his wife, who works as a physical therapist, to treat him, because she would enjoy "doling out the punishments," he said, laughing.

Johnson contacted Diepenbrock several times after the accident to check on him and see how he was doing, Diepenbrock said, and he even drove four hours from Alabama to visit him in the hospital on Sunday.

"I know there were a lot of people (involved)," Diepenbrock said. "But that's the guy that when he came down the hill, I saw him, and he grabbed my hand and said, 'Everything's going to be good and we're going to get out of here.' He said he'd get ahold of my family and stuff like that. That was the guy who meant everything to me."

Diepenbrock called his rescue a result of divine intervention.

"I'm a religious person. I've been raised that way. When all the circumstances come together, when you're talking about being down there for 30 hours... It's not a very scenic area. There's no reason why a person would stop there just to get a drink. There's other places where you can stop and oversee the valley. ... There's a lot of things that just shouldn't normally have happened that happened. I honestly think God has a plan for me, and he has a plan for other people. It's unclear what the purpose is, but it worked out."

Follow Travis Dorman on Twitter: @travdorman