Me and Tora
The picture here is of me riding my Honda CBR600RR named Tora (which means ‘tiger’ in Japanese)
Motorcycles are inherently dangerous. They tend to attract people with a need for adrenalin and speed. A bad combination for a vehicle with no protection other than the clothes you’re wearing (and most of those people are ‘too cool’ to wear helmets!). On that note, even if you’re doing everything right you still have the idiot Cagers on the road. Surviving as a biker has to do with a little bit of luck, a lot of bit of planning, the right reactions, and even more prayer.
As a new biker, you first need to get over how to actually get the bike to do what you’re asking. And next get it to do what you’re thinking. But after that I have discovered a new game.
I am A.D.D. I have a very mild case that I attempt to control without the aid of drugs but because of it my mind is a whirlwind of activity. I HAVE to keep my mind entertained. Boredom is the worst place for me to be in. Now in a car it’s not that big of a deal. I can zone out a bit and my mind can think about whatever. Unfortunately on a motorcycle that generally will spell disaster. Cagers (people driving four-wheeled vehicles) don’t look for us. They don’t imagine that we’re out there on the road. They never think that there is more than one of us. And unfortunately we don’t have the same abilities of the Cagers to take a hit. Unless the motorcyclist is doing something stupid, 90% of the time we are where we’re suppose to be and it’s the Cagers who cause the accident. As a new biker you will hear everyone tell you “Ride like you’re invisible”
Put all that together and I made a new game. Originally it was created out of necessity, then I found I really enjoyed it. Keeps my crazy mind active and busy during the ride. I don’t have a name for it (I know, shocker) But its basically a tactics game. It involves knowing where I am, where I’m going to be, where the Cagers are, what they might try to do to ruin my day, and where my escape routes are. It’s actually quite fun!
I’ve always loved tactics. I think it’s part of what allured me to the military in the first place. And as Communications I get to express that oh, so much…. not really. This is why I like Strategy games so much. But I learned all this the hard way.
My husband came by work to accompany me home. It may be fun to ride a bike but it’s so much more enjoyable when you get to share that thrill with others. That, and safety in numbers is while you’ll usually see packs of us out riding. This day was the second day I had taken Tora out. I’ve had Tora for six months now but I had JUST gotten my motorcycle endorsement on my license the day before. My husband had just finished fixing the R1 up after a wreck that happened about six months ago. This was his first day back on the R1.
We had planed our way to stay out of the major traffic as much as we could. Traffic still scared me at the time. We turned up a street called Cat Claw and was just over a mile from home. This old brown truck caught my eye. It was stopped at a stop sign on our left, waiting to turn onto Cat Claw. There was nothing special about it, but there it was, something was telling me to watch it. I glanced at my speed, I was going 30mph. Looked back again and this truck leaped out into the street, in front of a black SUV waiting on Catclaw to turn into his street (violating the SUV’s right of way where the truck should NEVER have pulled out). He was on a collision course to broad-side my husband and his recently returned R1. The truck saw him at the last second and slammed on the breaks, blocking that SUV and traffic from the other side. We’re safe….I had thought too soon. As soon as my husband went on by, the truck pulled out in front of me. I was still going close to 30mph and there he was, about 30ft in front of me, going much slower and we were in a turn. (For those unfamiliar with motorcycles when you stop, you have to be going strait or you will fall over.) I was completely emotionally detached. There was no panic, no fear. I remember thinking “I should hit the horn. No, he’d never hear it. I should hit the break.” and then I was rolling on the ground.
I had always wondered what my reactions would be when the time came. It happens to every biker. I’m rather proud to say I never panicked. I didn’t get emotional. I remember trying to stop myself from rolling. I spread my arms and legs out like you would if you had just fallen over. But I’m sure I was still going close to 30mph haha. Humans aren’t built to stop themselves at that speed. It didn’t hurt, yet, but I just knew it wasn’t a good idea so I tucked back in and rolled. I remember thinking that rolling over the backpack wasn’t as painful as I had imagined it would be. I just ‘went with the flow’ and relaxed. Let my body mold to the movement. I know my eyes were open because I remember thinking that the ground-sky-ground-sky view through my helmet wasn’t nearly as nauseating as I imagined.
I like to plan ahead. Obsessively. I also, as a writer, have an extremely active and visual imagination. When you ride a motorcycle you will get into a wreck. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when. It’s gonna happen. In my imagination of worse-case scenarios what I always feared the most was ending up stopping in the middle of the street and getting run over by the car behind me.
When I finally stopped rolling I was face-down. That fear flashed through me at the same time as I started hurting. Well, I knew I was hurt but I wasn’t feeling it quite yet. But out of shear adrenalin I pushed myself up to look around. I was on a wide shoulder, completely out of reach of normal traffic. I turned my head and saw my husband walking towards me. I moved to wave that I was ok, but at that moment the pain hit me. I dropped my face to the road (which, oddly enough, was the only time I damaged my helmet. Windscreens are not meant to survive face-planting into the road) and hit my fist against the ground.
After the first flood of pain I rolled over and accessed my injuries. My right ankle hurt and could be broken. My left hurt but was probably sprained, both my knees were probably sprained and I had rugburns on both knees.
Later my husband told me that traffic on both sides of the road came to a screeching halt the moment of the incident. There were TWO nurses who saw the wreck AND a volunteer ambulance guy.
Between thinking I should hit the break and then the memory of rolling on the ground, I have nothing. What I had managed to do was lock up the back tire and send my bike spinning out from under me. I don’t remember actually hitting the break, I don’t remember falling or hitting the ground. There was no damage on my helmet (I still use the same one) so I never hit my head. I suppose you could get a brain injury while spinning but honestly I think that break in memory was an angel taking over. My experience in motorcycles at the time ran to one introductory class (in which I didn’t do well on the breaking test) and riding to and from work the day before. If I had followed procedures I would have softly hit both breaks and probably ended up hitting the truck. (which my replay tells me I would have flown into the bed of his truck and hit my head on his window, probably causing a neck injury) Ultimately all I ended up with was two badly sprained knees, two badly sprained ankles, and a scar above one knee from roadrash. I spent six months in Physical Therapy to build back up to running again. And as a testament to my gear, my mesh motorcycle jacket was slightly frayed and my motorcycle gloves were torn at the seams of the palms. Unfortunately I was wearing my ABU (Airman Battle Uniform) pants and my combat boots. You would think that a double-layered, made for battle uniform would be ok. Nope, the road shredded through both layers. In addition to that, it ate my boots too. Right through the strongest part of the side of it! I miss those boots. I had gone to Iraq and back with them 😦
But out of all this I learned that I can handle emergency situations with the right mind. Which can come in handy in my line of work! I also learned to be paranoid about wearing my gear. Minimum requirements for the Air Force is long sleeve shirt with contrasting colors, pants, gloves, helmet and eye protection, and supportive over the ankle shoes. So basically I can wear my uniform, garden gloves, a helmet, and a reflective vest and the Air Force says I’ll be ok. Obviously that’s not enough, as I discovered, even at 30MPH. You know, that may be the minimum but I’m sure glad that I went out and spent the money on some good gear. $80 gloves, $150 jacket (on sale) $400 helmet (on sale, go Shoei!) And even in the 100+ degree weather we’ve been having I still gear up to ride the two miles to work. The speed limit for base is 30MPH. I’ve seen what 30MPH can do to me! Although sometimes I do wish that I was too stupid to wear my gear haha.
The last thing I learned is “Don’t ride faster than your guardian angel can fly!”
Military Oxymoron 