Luck? (it gets a bit emo)

I’d like to think you make your own luck.

If that’s the case I suck at it.

The great trip to Death Valley started yesterday, it also ended. It wasn’t the dead battery, or reluctant to start Multistrada, or the dramatic change of route. It was a buzzard.

It flew on to the road going after some road kill, hitting my closest friend in the head, knocking him out, and then the repercussions of being on a motorcycle going 50 mph while unconscious.

It’s hard even now almost 24 hours after the incident to think about how I felt watching my friend ride off the road, the bike’s front fold and then the both of them tumble down the side of the road end over end. Terrifying is only a start. Heart stopped I stop and ran to him, calling to my other friend to call 911.

He was lying on the ground moaning, and moving slightly, I’m yelling at him asking if he’s ok, but he’s not responding (he can’t hear me he has earplugs in and his hearing sucks). His visor of his helmet was torn off, and there is blood on his face.

He starts to move and I try to stop him, telling him not to move, but he keeps on moving. A part of me is relieved, he’s not dead, but I’m still worried about back and neck injuries. He rolls over on to his hands and knees and I see droplets of blood fall to the ground. I’m trying hard not to panic any more than I am. He is trying to take off his helmet but it’s still latched. Once again fearing for his neck etc. I try and stop him, but I’m also worried about how much he might be bleeding, so I decide to help him take it off as carefully as possible. We succed and I see the earplugs and things begin to make sense.

He stands up and now were talking, the stress is lower, but even now much later I still am coming down from the emotional rollercoaster it was.

I’m asking if he has any pain anywhere, I can now see the cuts on his face are not too bad and while there is a bit of blood it’s not gushing. He’s walking and I’m watching him closely asking again and again if he hurts. Arms? Legs? He’s still dazed and struggling to come to grips with what happened. We take off the rest of his gear, he’s ok. Sore neck, and back, but alive. We all begin to calm down. I walk him down to see the bird that almost killed him, he’s still dazed and not focusing but seems to be improving.

The emergency fire people arrive, the CHP arrive, the paramedics arrive. We deal with the bike, we answer questions, we are grateful that everyone is alive and ok.

This was hard to write, it’s amazing how hard it is to think about this, how afraid I was of losing my friend.

I’m a sensitive guy… for better or for worse…

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About MotoCynic

I started riding motorcycles in 2006, and there is no going back. I've ridden more than 100,000 miles, most of it on a Ducati Monster, and despite setbacks and murderous BMW's I'm loving every mile.
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2 Responses to Luck? (it gets a bit emo)

  1. Pingback: Death Valley or Bust… We should have left out the “or bust” | The Ramblings of a Cynic

  2. Pingback: Death Valley or Bust… We should have left out the “or bust” | Motorcycles and the Cynic

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