Five years ago, after a couple of years had transpired since my return to motorcycling, I started a motorcycle club, online in my hometown. Within about a month I had about a hundred people who had joined. I would organize a ride each week, usually to a destination a hundred miles or so from where we started. We had a few rules, none particularly onerous, that revolved around behavior, both online, at at events or weekly ‘meets’.
Our first four rides went well and the group’s behavior was such that at no time were any of us uncomfortable with the actions of others or their road sense. We’d usually stop half way and have lunch, enjoying the ride and getting to know each other. We never drank and rode, for obvious reasons. The bikes were varied and the group a fairly good cross section of both genders and race. Everyone got along well, and everyone was respectful of the other members of the club.
On the last ride of the year, we teamed up with another club, inadvertently, when we stopped for lunch. The group broke into two and went to two different restaurants at a lake about a hundred miles from home. One of the riders was riding a BMW 1250 GS Adventure, which I thought was way too tall for him. I would guess he would have been about 5’8” tall. I noticed he had some real issues, not just getting on and off the bike, but leaning his bike. Fortunately most of the first half of the ride had been almost a straight road across the prairie to the lake district, where the roads were completely different. Here the roads were serpentine with changes in elevation and camber. At least that is how I would describe them.
On the way out we had all been fairly sedate, giving each other the necessary allotted space and stagger. The leader was using hand signals to let those following know exactly where he was going. No one had communications to any other rider that I can remember. I felt that I should say something to the guy who was having a few issues, but he had joined the other group for the second half of the ride and had gone to the other restaurant across the highway. We ate, and our group headed out ahead of the other group that we could still see seated outside at the other location as we rode by.
The rest of the ride was fun. The road conditions, weren’t the best however, but we all had no problems navigating the ride. I was the follow-up guy who could get a good look at the eight others ahead of me. We got home to the parking lot where we started, shook hands and said we’d see each other next week. Like now, I would create a short trip discussion of the ride and post it on the club blog I had created.
I was just sitting down at home when the phone rang. It was one of the other members, who had been on the ride with the other group. He said, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you know Jeff, the guy with the GS?” I said I did, and he continued. “Well, he went around a corner and rode right off the road into a rock cut on the highway.” I immediately felt my stomach knot and asked the obvious question. “Is he okay?”
There was silence on the other end of the phone for about ten awkward seconds. Then he said, “Jeff was killed.” I was shocked and something inside me whispered, ‘you knew this could happen. He wasn’t ready to ride.” I found out his phone number, found out if his next of kin had been notified and then called his wife and offerred my condolences. That was a hard conversation. After a bit, I called the RCMP to talk to the officer in charge of traffic accident reconstruction. He told me what the witnesses had told him and then how it appeared to occur. Then he asked, “Was this guy a new rider? Based on what people have told me, he wasn’t particularly comfortable on his bike.”
To this day I wish I had spoken up and told him what he needed to hear and to not go with the other group, as they were riding faster than we were. Down inside, I wasn’t comfortable with his skills on the bike. I couldn’t have stopped him from going, but maybe he would have realized that he needed to work on his abilities and just ride back home with me instead.
I simply wish I had spoken up.
Speak up when someone needs to hear the truth. You might lose a friend, but you might save a life. It might be the best thing you can do for a fellow rider.
Ciao.
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