The Incident
May 10, 2011 By Laurie
Sherfey
I have put off writing this article
as long as I can. There are some things that need to be said, because maybe
someone out there can learn from my mistakes - and also from the one or two
things I have done right, too.
I have now been riding for over 10
years as an adult; not including times spent putzing around on various
two-wheeled contraptions as a kid. Though not a great rider, I have developed a
certain degree of competence, and have done some really good riding at times,
and in recent years some fairly long distances.
I'm no daredevil, nor am I an adrenaline junkie. I ride to relax,
to see more of the world, and because it satisfies my soul. Safety is high on
my list, and I'm all about risk management. I've had nothing but some minor
drops at low speeds in those ten years of riding, and feeling dumb about those
has definitely kept me from getting arrogant or complacent!
Haven't
written anything for this site in quite a while - to be honest, nothing much to
write about. There's been the daily commute to work - a very pleasant thing for
me, but totally a yawner to read about. I have found a new do-rag that is the
best I've ever tried, in all these years. But folks like Phil don't seem all
that interested in such things. Since the trip to Georgia last October, my life
has been busy, but very, very mundane.
In April, I came due to renew
my base stickers, which my Safety training site informed me required retaking
the MSF Rider Safety Course. It turns out I probably should have taken the
Advanced (1 day) course, but the Basic (2 day) course checks the box just as
well, and it is offered on base every week. It's hard to get a spot, but I got
on standby, and eventually a slot opened for me on March31/April 1.
I
was on my way to the course that Thursday morning, when my incident happened,
kind of the ultimate irony. The roads were wet, and I was on Granby Street,
right by Gate 22 into the Naval Station. When cars started doing weird things,
brake lights everywhere, and to be honest, it's all kind of a big blur to me.
I put on my brakes, and maybe a bit too hard, or I accidently gave the
bike some throttle at the same time. I felt the back tire kick out, and then
grip, and then next thing I knew, I was sliding across the pavement on my
belly. I looked up to see the scooter, which had whacked my knee on its way
past, spinning in a shower of sparks into the mud of Granby's median strip,
where it dug in and came to rest.
I got up, and shook myself, and
found everything in one piece. And here's the part I want everybody to read. I
did a high-side exit from my scooter. I was not going fast when it happened,
but I got thrown up and over it, and the scooter caught a piece of me going by.
It would turn out to be a question of whether to total the scooter or not even
though the damage was almost entirely cosmetic.
When I went down, I
was wearing my fully armored textile riding suit (Aerostich), heavy gloves,
riding boots, and a ¾ helmet. I got up and walked away from this
incident, with just a bruise where the scooter hit me going by, and a sprained
wrist, which didn't even start hurting till later in the day. My suit had one
minor scuff and a tiny pinhole on the right knee where the scooter hit. When I
think of the difference that gear made - or what would have happened if I
hadn't been protected by it, I still get a little shaky!
I am
convinced I would have been in the hospital, with a far more serious knee
injury, and some very nasty "road rash" on my arms, legs, and certainly my
torso, too. My point in all of this is that the gear works. It is worth looking
dorky. It is worth the extra effort to put it on and take it off. It is worth
being a little hot and stuffy until you get moving. I have done so for 10 years
now, and never really needed it. But that morning, it literally saved my skin,
and maybe some other vital parts.
I was also lucky that the cars
behind me were more on the ball than the ones ahead of me, and no one ran me
down. In fact, several nice people got out to make sure I was okay.
Me, I was actually pretty dazed by it all, but asked a nice young sailor to
help me get my bike out of the mud. And bless his noble and chivalrous heart,
he did. A nice lady made sure I was really, really okay, and then they all left
me, to sit and recheck all my parts and pieces, and take a deep breath.
The scooter looked a whole lot worse than its shaken rider. The entire
right side was all scraped up, and there was mud packed into every crevice on
that side, too. It got the worst of it off, and he started right up, and
sounded as smooth as ever, despite all the ugly cosmetic damage.
Okay,
at this point it was just stubborn and stupid - but spots in that class aren't
easy to come by. So I pulled back out onto Granby Street, and the guards let me
through Gate 22 without comment. I was only a little late for the start of the
class, and several seats were still empty when I arrived.
The roomful
of young sailors all eyed me curiously as I clomped in all muddy and wet in my
"space suit". When it came my turn to introduce myself, I gave them the short
version of what happened on the way there (hey, they were all going to see my
mud-crusted, scraped up scooter in a little while).
I told them that
safety gear is worth its weight in gold, and I was there only because I had it
on. I hope even one of them was listening, just as I hope even one person
reading this will reconsider going out to ride without the right protective
equipment!
I halfway expected the instructors to make me drop out of
the class when they saw the scooter's damage - and my wrist was starting to
hurt. But they let me stay, and I somehow got through that day, and the next
day was a lot easier, with my wrist ace bandaged tightly. I passed the course,
though certainly wasn't in top form.
I was holding up pretty well,
until the one instructor, who had experience as a motorcycle insurance
adjuster, told me my insurance company would probably total my scooter. Yeah,
I'd been all rough and tough until he said that. I screwed up the next three
riding drills, fighting the urge to break down and cry like a baby. He turned
out to be right, though he wasn't very kind or tactful about it.
I
called the insurance company as soon as the course was over, and that started a
round of dealing with the adjustor, and the repair shop, and about a week of
sweating out whether the scooter would be totaled. Cameron, my mechanic at
Honda of Norfolk, said he thought it probably would be, and I spent the week
pretty much moping around the house and the office, looking morosely at the big
empty hole in our garage, and miserably driving the car to work.
In
the end, they actually seemed to take my desire to fix the scooter into account
when making the call. I had the comfort of knowing Honda of Norfolk would be
honest with me about its condition, and that if Cameron said he could fix it,
he would make it as good as, if not better, than it was (it did turn out
better, in a lot of ways). A great mechanic is almost as valuable as good
riding gear! I am so grateful to have both.
So, I'm back to riding the
scooter to work, with a great big, dumb grin on my face every morning. Next
week, I'm going to pack it up (and put on that gear!) and ride it to Erie, PA
to visit my Mom - and my sister and brothers are also coming in from all over
the country! Life is good.
Please learn from my experience. I wouldn't
be making this trip, if I had not had that gear on. I very well might not be
riding again, ever. Yes, it was a dumb accident, and it could have been
prevented with better riding technique. At times I have avoided worse things,
with more skillful riding, or at least by being super-cautious. But this time,
my luck ran out, and that gear was still my "Plan B". And it did everything I
could have hoped for, and then some.
Yes, it's hot in the suit
sometimes. No, I'm not an astronaut, or in flight training, but I will only
laugh at all the comments I get in the future. Because I still have my pretty
unspoiled skin underneath all that armor and cordura! I survived a high side
accident. Actually, I walked away from it with only very minor injuries. And I
want more than anything else; to share my experience, and maybe save someone
else's hide.
Please consider what I've said - I'm not pushing any
specific brand, or style. Leather works even better than textiles, and I wear a
mesh jacket and pants in the summer's hottest months. There are all kinds, at
all kinds of prices; you can buy on line, or at the local bike shop. I can tell
you, though, that the most expensive piece of gear you can find will still cost
a lot less than even a short visit to the local hospital.
In closing:
Live to ride. Ride to live.
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Laurie
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from The Rambling Red Head
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