danbmx wrote:there was sand in the corner that i failed to see
you were lucky this time...I think we get a couple warning shots over the bow before we get the hard lesson...I mean the one that keeps a cane collection in the corner for the rest of your life with a range of about 1/8 mile ability to walk, and puts dribbly words of old man in your warnings to young kids who haven't seen the elephant yet.
in my case it wasn't the cell phone car pulling out, or the sand on the corner...it was a deer in rut at full gallop coming out from behind a bushy pine tree next to the road and I was only doing 35 mph...shit, I've powerslid thru corners faster than that with a chuckle and a snarl.
here's the skinny low-down:
your safety and very life is in your hands alone...it hinges on your maturity and common sense to keep the monster on the leash...if that bike ever gets out of control. it's on you alone.
blood & guts death is bad enough...but on the bright side the pain stops...the worse choice is to live crippled looking for 10 minutes of relief from the chronic analyzing what you should have done different.
at 18 I was reaching behind me to get a dangling bungie before it got into the spokes on a curve and tho I should have been killed that day, I did an endo over a 30'+ embankment and landed on my back out cold...got up, twisted the forks straight enough for the wheel to spin again and rode it home...then the out of place upper back showed up as the adrenline wore off. chronic but no biggie at 18...I worked as a steamfitter and lifted big pipe when others would have retired on a disability...I know your bravado and the sense that it was a fluke and I'm bulletproof.
at 27 I smashed the R knee...no biggie...use a cane 30% of the time for life.
at 30-ish I tore the cartledge in the L knee...lots of folks whine or rush into an operation...no biggie...switch the cane to whatever side hurts that day.
thru the years I tore up both elbows working too hard...no biggie keep on keepin' on.
a percentage of the folks with this track record would have sat down on disability...I saw a couple doctors, but since they had nothing to offer, I just grinned and bared it.
then it happened
at 50 I hit the fuckin' deer that broke my lower back and made me say "Uncle"...all those old battle wounds come back with age, and these days I wish I had taken better care and not so many wild chances.
I did everything you do on a mc at 18...the difference was I built them so breaking stuff was never a big deal. I took it far and wide...for a good while there were no repercussions. if you knew me at that age I'd be your hero and the guy your mother warned you to stay away from.
if you're having 2 bad ones a season (early in the season) that HAS to be a sign you need to take a step back and smell the coffee...if you don't, your future is my canes and pain pills...you really don't want that if you have any intelligence and ability to make better choices.
I grew up on dirt bikes in the woods and always had a stupid high level of ability, talent, luck, and nerve...it took me a long time to realize it has nothing to do with skill...it's merely statistics.
you wanna be just another statistic? wail with it.
...or you can listen to the voice of experience and stop racing around with big hp on marginally maintained roads...cause one day it's going to bite you. You can still have fun...lots of it.
but you have to separate wisdom from serrogate small penis diversion. that machismo doesn't make the chicks melt into jello...it doesn't make you hip and happenin'.
if not, then it was nice talking with you...when the crusty old riders get together we'll tell your story along with the others who didn't make it in our dribbly old man way.