I went down on my bike, fairly badly, and I am unhurt, but it was so terrifying. I didn’t run into anybody. Unfortunately for me (but fortunately for everyone else) it was just between me and the curb and the hill. The wheels got in a bit of an argument, my hands forgot what to do. I did a semi wheelie going uphill and all of Gail, my Abigail, my 1966 Honda Dream, vintage and heavy with a full belly of gas left me behind, semi flipped up in the air and landed on my leg and arm. I moved out of the way fast enough to catch most of the impact on my new icon federal 1000 jacket’s ce approved elbow armor and my heavy duty Harley-Davidson boots. My Harley boots kept my leg from snapping in half, for real! Thank you Harley for my leg. And thank you Icon for my elbow.
I have no bruises at all besides my bruised pride and although there is a fair amount of pain, there doesn’t seem to be permanent damage. I was going to go to the emergency room but then no bones seem to be poking through my skin so I will forgo it for now. I don’t like the doctor, and so even though I might be dead right now, I am just going to haunt my house and leave it at that.
It has been three days and the bike is still parked at a super awkward angle on my street. My accident happened in my driveway after a very long and satisfying ride through the city. I felt so confident from riding on the busy streets, signaling with my arms as I have no turn signals on this old girl, leaning into turns – even getting pulled over by cops, not to get tickets but just so they could get to talk to the hot girl in the bright red leather jacket and glowing white vintage bike who turned out to be an “actual movie star” (their words, not mine) that I could take the hill on my street from the opposite, steeper end. It was when I got cocky that I got dumb.
No matter how successful and joyous your ride is, it doesn’t mean it will stay that way. Even when you are almost home, you could crash, like I did. The mailman was delivering mail to my house right at that moment and was there to help me out from under the bike where i was pinned. I am not going to say ‘trapped’ because that sounds really too dramatic. Pinned. I was pinned. I was not really sure how to get out from under a still roaring motorcycle and so just laid there until the mailman gently suggested that I kill the engine, which I did, which released me partway, and so I will not say I was ‘trapped’.
Wear your gear and real quality gear if you can. Seriously. Body armor is not only for track days. Pay attention, always, even if you are in the driveway. Go to the doctor. I am not going to, but do as I say and not as I do. Really, I am just fine. Keep the shiny side up. Stay up.