I had a close call today on my way to work, a not so subtle reminder that “Familiarity and prolonged exposure without incident leads to a loss of apreattion of risk.” Most of the time close calls are the cop you didn’t see and got a warning, or a near crash where you and your bike would have got banged up but would still live to fight another day. Today’s close call wasn’t on of those by any means, in retrospect I was all in and failure would most likely been fatal or close enough that I might wish it had been.
Just as a little back story last week I was stopped and lectured about my “reckless driving” and how I was endangering peoples lives, my veterans plate kept me out of handcuffs and I have been riding less aggressively since then. The cause for that stop and chat with local law enforcement was spawned by my rapid acceleration down the onramp and passing a slow moving car (it was a two lane onramp) in the process. I was riding a Triumph Scrambler so there were no land speed records broken, the less than 60hp at the crank and a 450lb dry bike do not lead to such things. I think my loud pipes and smooth line in conjunction with the slow moving car made it appear that I was going much faster than I was. Anyways for the record I am very grateful to have gotten off with just a verbal warning and understand that from the cops vantage point I must have looked to be very much in the wrong, we all have our jobs to do after all and he was doing his.
Back to the story at hand of this mornings encounter and my close call. I was commuting up I5 from Olympia to Lakewood (same exit as McChord AFB for you Zoomie types) during the morning rush hour times, between 8-9am. Outfitted in my typical commuting attired to aid in people seeing me and my survivability if people didn‘t, I was in my FieldSheer armored jacket and over pants with my ever so fashionable Icon Mil-Spec reflective vest and brand spanking new Arai XD3 brain bucket. The Scrambler in addition to the afore mentioned loutish pipes is also running a high output PIAA Super White headlight, I’d like to think I’m pretty conspicuous, guess I was wrong. Anyways in my newfound more responsible riding I was slowly passing a sliver Mercedes Benz C-class sedan in the far left lane when the driver decided that properly checking there mirrors and signaling did not apply to them. They start to slide over into the chuck of highway I was occupying, while I do not have my PhD in physics I do know that two things can not occupy the same space at the same time, ohh did I mention it was starting to rain too. I start to get on the brakes and lay on my horn, my front tire was somewhere next to either the rear driver side door or the rear quarter panel at this point. Generally this will get the driver attention who’s lack of situational awareness to decide they should get back in there lane and not kill me, I guess maybe this waste of air was busy on his or her cell phone or just didn’t give a damn. The left side breakdown lane is generally cluttered with enough random shit in the 20 miles I commute on to rebuild the million dollar man a few times over so I didn’t think that would be a very good escape route. Now hard on the brakes I am able to have my front tire dodge the rear bumper that is poised to takeout my front tire by about a foot or so In retrospect I am glad I upgraded my front brake pads to Sprint ST spec. units put in the Works Performance dual rate springs in the forks, every little bit counted today that is for sure. Now if that was it this wouldn’t have been noteworthy enough to even write up, it would have been a normal close call. With the danger of the car hitting me avoided I find myself in a new even more dangerous situation, I am fishtailing, not just a little fishtail, think a tank slapper but the front wheel is still pointing straight. When this whole this started I was going a little over 70mph indicated on my speedo, I failed to note the speed when the fishtailing started, I was sorta busy to recheck after the initial braking, sorry guys. Anyways I fucked up and failed to properly modulate my rear brake to prevent the ass end from braking loose, I was able to fight it out and straiten the Scrambler back out. What do I see in front of me, the fucking Benz dropping the hammer and hauling ass away, I guess they final saw me. I doubled down into 3rd gear since I’m only going 45mph at this point and started to drop the hammer myself, I wanted fucking blood. If I hadn’t been so busy manning the back brake I could have kicked the shit out of the car as it was trying to take me out, we were that close. I yell into my helmet and realize it is best not to chase (what would I do when I caught the car?) and slide over a few lanes to wait for the adrenaline dump to leave my system. The truck that had been behind be gave be a big thumbs up as he passed me, I guess my save was impressive to see, the alternative would have been a very nasty high side into traffic, that would have sucked a lot. I was a bit shook up the rest of the day, when I got to work I walked in and said “This bright fucking orange vest is pretty easy to see right?” I firmly believe if I had failed to recover from my ass end breaking loose I would be either dead or wishing I was. A high side at those speeds in rush hour traffic (50/50 odds that I would have gone over the center divider into oncoming traffic) I would have go run over, I’m sure my gear would have got me through the crash, but getting hit by a few tons of steel going 65mph or more nothing would have save me.
I guess I’m posting this as a reminder of the risks we all take by shaking off the steel cage, and to get it off my chest, I have made a few calls to share this with people who would understand. Sometimes you go all in and don't realize it at the time, I didn't going into this and that shock me up the most. The other thing that I want to get across is it seems that running you over is ok if they kill us. Part of me wishes I took something off that car as a trophy for living through it and to remind everyone of what can happen, there were no brake lights other than mine. Be careful out there and watch all around, people might not want to kill you but that doesn’t mean they care if they do. My skills were not good enough to save me, luck is what did it, and sometimes being lucky is better than good, you just can not count on that. Lady luck is a great mistress, but a very unfaithful wife.
Just as a little back story last week I was stopped and lectured about my “reckless driving” and how I was endangering peoples lives, my veterans plate kept me out of handcuffs and I have been riding less aggressively since then. The cause for that stop and chat with local law enforcement was spawned by my rapid acceleration down the onramp and passing a slow moving car (it was a two lane onramp) in the process. I was riding a Triumph Scrambler so there were no land speed records broken, the less than 60hp at the crank and a 450lb dry bike do not lead to such things. I think my loud pipes and smooth line in conjunction with the slow moving car made it appear that I was going much faster than I was. Anyways for the record I am very grateful to have gotten off with just a verbal warning and understand that from the cops vantage point I must have looked to be very much in the wrong, we all have our jobs to do after all and he was doing his.
Back to the story at hand of this mornings encounter and my close call. I was commuting up I5 from Olympia to Lakewood (same exit as McChord AFB for you Zoomie types) during the morning rush hour times, between 8-9am. Outfitted in my typical commuting attired to aid in people seeing me and my survivability if people didn‘t, I was in my FieldSheer armored jacket and over pants with my ever so fashionable Icon Mil-Spec reflective vest and brand spanking new Arai XD3 brain bucket. The Scrambler in addition to the afore mentioned loutish pipes is also running a high output PIAA Super White headlight, I’d like to think I’m pretty conspicuous, guess I was wrong. Anyways in my newfound more responsible riding I was slowly passing a sliver Mercedes Benz C-class sedan in the far left lane when the driver decided that properly checking there mirrors and signaling did not apply to them. They start to slide over into the chuck of highway I was occupying, while I do not have my PhD in physics I do know that two things can not occupy the same space at the same time, ohh did I mention it was starting to rain too. I start to get on the brakes and lay on my horn, my front tire was somewhere next to either the rear driver side door or the rear quarter panel at this point. Generally this will get the driver attention who’s lack of situational awareness to decide they should get back in there lane and not kill me, I guess maybe this waste of air was busy on his or her cell phone or just didn’t give a damn. The left side breakdown lane is generally cluttered with enough random shit in the 20 miles I commute on to rebuild the million dollar man a few times over so I didn’t think that would be a very good escape route. Now hard on the brakes I am able to have my front tire dodge the rear bumper that is poised to takeout my front tire by about a foot or so In retrospect I am glad I upgraded my front brake pads to Sprint ST spec. units put in the Works Performance dual rate springs in the forks, every little bit counted today that is for sure. Now if that was it this wouldn’t have been noteworthy enough to even write up, it would have been a normal close call. With the danger of the car hitting me avoided I find myself in a new even more dangerous situation, I am fishtailing, not just a little fishtail, think a tank slapper but the front wheel is still pointing straight. When this whole this started I was going a little over 70mph indicated on my speedo, I failed to note the speed when the fishtailing started, I was sorta busy to recheck after the initial braking, sorry guys. Anyways I fucked up and failed to properly modulate my rear brake to prevent the ass end from braking loose, I was able to fight it out and straiten the Scrambler back out. What do I see in front of me, the fucking Benz dropping the hammer and hauling ass away, I guess they final saw me. I doubled down into 3rd gear since I’m only going 45mph at this point and started to drop the hammer myself, I wanted fucking blood. If I hadn’t been so busy manning the back brake I could have kicked the shit out of the car as it was trying to take me out, we were that close. I yell into my helmet and realize it is best not to chase (what would I do when I caught the car?) and slide over a few lanes to wait for the adrenaline dump to leave my system. The truck that had been behind be gave be a big thumbs up as he passed me, I guess my save was impressive to see, the alternative would have been a very nasty high side into traffic, that would have sucked a lot. I was a bit shook up the rest of the day, when I got to work I walked in and said “This bright fucking orange vest is pretty easy to see right?” I firmly believe if I had failed to recover from my ass end breaking loose I would be either dead or wishing I was. A high side at those speeds in rush hour traffic (50/50 odds that I would have gone over the center divider into oncoming traffic) I would have go run over, I’m sure my gear would have got me through the crash, but getting hit by a few tons of steel going 65mph or more nothing would have save me.
I guess I’m posting this as a reminder of the risks we all take by shaking off the steel cage, and to get it off my chest, I have made a few calls to share this with people who would understand. Sometimes you go all in and don't realize it at the time, I didn't going into this and that shock me up the most. The other thing that I want to get across is it seems that running you over is ok if they kill us. Part of me wishes I took something off that car as a trophy for living through it and to remind everyone of what can happen, there were no brake lights other than mine. Be careful out there and watch all around, people might not want to kill you but that doesn’t mean they care if they do. My skills were not good enough to save me, luck is what did it, and sometimes being lucky is better than good, you just can not count on that. Lady luck is a great mistress, but a very unfaithful wife.
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