This article is going to be about something very close to me, physically and mentally. It was originally going to be about motorcycle helmets, their technology and how important that can be to your survival. There are a number of reasons why I’m enamoured with the subject, not the least of which is that I’ve survived close to twenty life threatening events in my life. But it isn’t just your helmet or your gear, it’s about planning and your attitude. I am not a religious man, so I don’t actually think that there is someone out there somewhere looking out for my interests. But as a former rescuer in a number of different fields, safety had to become an obsession.
I’ve simply been lucky, period. In each situation I’m sure that a physicist somewhere could explain in great detail why that is the case. For me, luck is good enough. Oh, it wasn’t by happenstance that I survived some of the ‘accidents’. It was likely due to that little voice in the back of your head that says, “Did you do X?”
“X” could be as simple as, put on your seatbelt. Or “X” could be that extra prussic loop you placed on a rope, the one you’re now hanging by 200 feet above the ground. “X” is the unknown, until it becomes the one thing that makes a difference in your survival, and for me, “X” has always been a rule. It’s no different than my time as a Dive Rescuer where the mantra is, “Plan your dive. Dive your Plan.”
And so, when it comes to motorcycling, planning is fundamental. It can be something as simple as paying complete attention, or what is known as situational awareness. Is the driver on my left, who is constantly changing lanes, paying any attention to his mirrors? My inner voice says, “Back off and give him some room.” Ten seconds later, the driver abruptly pulls into my lane as I rapidly brake to give him more space.
In one instance in my professional career I was working on a building that was on fire. As a technical rescuer, I was above the fire. In a fire, time is your enemy. I was in no way aware of the condition of the structure and at what point structural failure might be imminent. Not until it actually occured. One minute I was on a roof four stories up and the next I was falling through an orange inferno, hitting objects and wondering what I would hit when I stopped. The answer probably took no longer than five seconds to make me aware. I fell on my back into about four feet of water in the basement of the building, now flooded with water from firefighting. In that basement was a Captain, unhurt, who grabbed the back of my turnout coat and dragged me toward the only light we could see.
I was big in those days, 220 pounds of muscle, 8% body fat. In the fall I had broken my neck at C3, but not a complete fracture. I had herniated three discs in my back dislocated a shoulder, broken a collar bone and most of my ribs. The Captain dragged me up a flight of stairs, miraculously still intact and dropped my on the grass outside the structure, literally smoking.
All he said was, “Well kid, that’s one way go get into a building.”
What that taught me was that my preparation, my planning in the sense that I was in very good shape, undoubtedly saved my life. The orthopedic surgeon intimated that had my neck and back muscles not been as strong as they were, I would likely have severed my spinal column from hitting whatever it was on the way down.
Whether firefighting or riding a motorcycle, preparation is key. It starts with the condition of your bike, through to the equipment you purchase and wear, to the way that you ride and the observances and reason you use when you ride. It is, what is called the Prevention and Safety Phase of the Rescue Curve. It is, most likely what will keep you safe.
Three years ago, my helmet, a full-face HJC helmet was the first thing that went through the rear window of the Range Rover I was following, when the driver slammed on her brakes in the middle of an intersection at about 60 kph. Though braking violently I still collided heavily with the vehicle. My helmet struck the top of the rear window frame, taking a chunk out of the shell. After the impact I got out of the Range Rover cargo area myself, shocked I was still in one piece.
Was it luck? Undoubtedly. But wearing the right equipment prior to the impact saved me. My fully armoured suit sustained no damage, other than a zipper being torn. My legs, though badly bruised were not fractured due to the C2 armor in my thighs, knees and hips.
Though I broke the fairing on my BMW completely off the bike, I actually was able to ride it home, the half mile.
The message is simple. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Luck is not a solution. Preparation is the solution. It may not save you from injury, but unless conditions are extreme, it may well save your life.
Thanks for reading this. Be well, be safe and keep the shiny side pointing up. Most of all think about those who matter to you. They, in turn, want you to come home from the ride.
Ciao…
Leave a Reply