Keep Riding

[Alphamazing]

My father e-mailed this to me. It was a response to a post on another board, but I felt that this guy's story needed to be shared.

I've worked probably 20-25 fatal or critical / soon to be fatal crashes, not all involving motorcycles, in 10 years as an EMT and cop. I guess I held the images at arms length and didn't really mentally process them beyond analytically looking at what I needed to do to at the scene. Those images have never made me even question whether I should be riding; in fact, I rarely think of them, only when asked like now. I always associated those who crashed with having made some mistake, one which I was too good to make - that was my rationalization, right or wrong.
Response to a post about a guy who drove up on a fatal accident.

On Memorial Day 2004 I had a female riding buddy lowside in a curve right behind me and she slid across oncoming traffic into a guardrail, had a helmet failure, and died - later an autopsy revealed a broken neck. I stopped, had bystanders help me move her from the ditch back onto the side of the road, and I gave her CPR while I directed bystanders to hold c-spine immobilization until EMS arrived. Strangely enough, despite my personal involvement with that crash and my friendship with the downed rider, I still pushed the image far enough way that I was looking at it from a strictly analytical standpoint.

Later, though, when there was nothing left for me to do the images of that whole episode began creeping into my brain. I began to replay the incident over and over and began questioning if I could have done anything differently to prevent the crash. I felt that had I been going slower in the curve she would not have been struggling to keep up with me and would have negotiated the curve, we would have ridden on, and been sitting down to dinner in Coshocton about the same time the coroner was declaring her dead. In addition to the massive guilt I felt about the crash I was having serious doubts about my ability or desire to continue riding. In fact, I rode about 35 mph the entire way home and stopped several times because I was crying so severely. Once I arrived home, I parked the motorcycle in my garage and didn't even look at it for several weeks. I considered selling it. I didn't read my motorcycle magazines that were arriving in the mail. I felt a complete disdain for anything on two wheels and whenever my neighbor would rumble by on his Harley with no helmet I would stand at the window and shake my head like I was looking at some disgusting image.

Jesus, this is getting longer than I had intended when I began the reply to your post. Point is, following the self-imposed guilt and the self-imposed banishment from my motorcycle I realized that depriving myself of one of the few things that made me truly happy was foolish. Life is a short, fickle thing, and to go through it afraid of the consequences of doing something wonderful and exciting is to not really go through it. I knew my friend wouldn't have wanted me to stop riding. I began riding again, fledgling little trips leading up to bigger ones leading up to bigger ones. The first few were hard; I stopped and cried several times but not out of fear or anger or sadness. I just missed my friend and the feel, the smell; everything about the motorcycle conjured up memories. I think I subconsciously avoided the area where she had crashed for quite a while but I remember the first ride back through that curve was like a re-awakening of sorts; it was like I had put a bad memory to rest and was now only remembering the good things about her. I remember that right before the crash I had been humming Tim McGraw's "It's a great day to be alive" because I was just so happy to be with Jessica and now, on the first trip back over that road that song came back into my head and only good memories flooded over me. I now re-ride that stretch of road regularly and whenever I do I think of her in a happy way. I always give exactly 23 honks of the horn - one for each year of her life - as I navigate the curve and give her a little wave as I pass.

I am glad I didn't stop riding. Riding helped me to overcome the horrible images and remember the good ones. It is, and continues to be, therapeutic for me. I realize this got a little away from your post but I hope maybe it has been helpful to you in making a decision for yourself.

Mark

[scratch]

Good post. Thank you for sharing. Brought a tear to my eye and a smile to my heart.

[pandy]

What a wonderful post.

[snowhownd]

I agree great post, what a better what to remember someone than to keep doing what you both enjoyed doing together.  I know if I kicked the bucket riding I'd definitely want my friends to keep riding and to think of me from time to time.  

(Travis Tritt sings that song though   )

[Stephen072774]

I understand how the guy feels... after my close-call, near-death ever what you wanna call it, I couldn't watch 2 wheel tuesday or watch ama or motogp races, and I still haven't so much as sat on a motorcycle in the past 6 months, but I am getting closer.  I needed that read, thanks.

[scratch]

You healing up allright? What's your status? Are you walking?

[rtcpenguin]

My father e-mailed this to me. It was a response to a post on another board, but I felt that this guy's story needed to be shared.

I had been humming Tim McGraw's "It's a great day to be alive"

That part just killed the story.

[facio57]

good story.  i can relate to that guy pretty well.  although i am only 22, i have been an emt in SoCal for 2 years now and i have seen my share of really bad accidents, even having lost a couple of co-workers in bike crashes.  everyone always says its kinda contradictory what i do and don't i know any better.  but to be honest, there is no big difference between cars and bikes; i have seen minor fender-benders result in fatalities, while sometimes there is an accident where u can't distinguish two cars from one another and the people inside manage to crawl out unscathed.  and it is sad but i see everything analytically also, u kind of lose your heart for seeing someone die.  u just think about what treatment worked best and what could work better in the future.  oh well, just ride without thinking about the consequences because if it happens, it happens, and there's nothing u can do about it.

facio

[dhgeyer]

That's a very thoughtful post, and really moving.

I have issues myself with the risks of riding. Not so much for myself anymore. I'm 59. My youngest is 17 - old enough to recover from losing me if she has to. My family is financially secure. I have been somewhat involved with my high school graduating class recently, and have learned that many of us are gone already from a variety of causes. If it happens it happens. It's gonna happen sooner or later anyway from whatever cause.  Don't get me wrong; I've got some good years left, and a lot of good times, and I would hate to lose them in a crash. But that's not enough reason to stop riding. My mother, who was 88,  died last year from Alzheimers. I'll take the guardrail, thank you all the same, but hopefully not anytime soon!

But I do worry for my daughter, Rachael. Rachael is 17, and just started riding. She took the BRC, and did well.  But, watching her now, she doesn't have the skill I'd like to see. She just hasn't ridden enough, or even driven enough for that matter. Truth be told, she's probably doing about as well as I did when I was about her age, and had been riding about as much. But, East Aurora NY in 1963 was a lot more forgiving than Merrimack NH in 2005. Drivers don't  respect the law, each other, or any kind of standards of conduct the way they did 42 years ago, and there are a lot more of them.  On the bright side, Rachael has totalled one car due to her first encounter with Winter driving. Why, you ask, is that on the bright side? Because, unlike most teenagers, she knows it can happen to her, and she's very cautious - especially on the bike.

So, I'm really torn. I know how much she enjoys riding, what it means to her,  and I can certainly relate. But it scares me to death every time I see her ride off on it.

Another part of the formula, for me, is the experience of a friend of mine. He is a lifetime rider. He got both of his sons riding young, and they became very involved, passionate riders. One of his sons was killed early this Summer in a MC accident. The son was in his 30's. We've talked about it some. He's handling it as well as can be expected, but the loss is hard to even imagine.  It's hard for me not to dwell on what it would be like if something happened to Rachael after I got her starting  riding.

More information than you all probably wanted, but thanks for listening.

Dave Geyer
New Hampshire