Life of Dave: The Calamitous Incident of the Motorcycle in the Morning

Eye level with the asphalt; in a micro-second. That's all it took for me to realize I'd greatly underestimated the rapidly approaching winter driving conditions; in relation to motorcycling at least.

To be fair to myself it's been at least 25 years since I last rode a motorcycle through the winter season. I remember once, probably 30 years ago, riding on a rural stretch of 16th Avenue in South Surrey as snow flakes began to fall. I was close to home however and they were only small dry flakes, not the huge wet pie plate-style of flakes the Lower Mainland is known for. But none-the-less, a motorcycle is not the vehicle of choice during a snowfall event.

But...back to the present, I realize its not officially winter (we're really only about halfway through Autumn), but my 6-month insurance policy doesn't expire until the middle of this month. I got a late start this year due to our wet Spring. So every non-rainy day I anticipate that I can squeeze in one more motorcycle day into my work-week commute.

That leads me to my fateful flip-a-coin moment yesterday morning as I evaluated the pros and cons of motorcycling. It should have been a no-brainer; frost on the neighbour's garage roof. Decision made; full stop.

I even had the choice of driving my wife's car to work as she had been picked up by her part-time carpool co-worker. And to complicate the motorcycle plan further, I'd have to back out her car, roll out the bike and park her car again within the garage, all the while delicately weaving through a maze of garbage containers: regular trash, leaves bin and recycling blue box.

Shoulda been a no-brainer.

But in another sense it really was a no-brainer because I didn't use my brain to its full potential in evaluating the risks involved of riding that particular day. Yes, it was sunny, but there was frost on my neighbour's roof!

In terms of risk evaluation I was kind of only thinking of being extra careful while traversing fallen and crushed leaves on the side streets prior to reaching a major arterial such as Knight Street. The leaves can act almost like ice if one is not careful.

So...I backed the car out, pushed the bike out, made room amidst trash and recycling containers to lean it onto its kickstand, returned the car to the garage, closed the garage door, started the bike, warmed it up as I donned my helmet and gloves, and off I went. Careful procession through the neighbourhood side streets...finally riding down Knight Street, in the clear all the way to the office.

And it was all rainbows and unicorns until I applied the brakes in reaction to the preceding car on Knight Street's south slope. Brake application resulted in instantaneous impact with the asphalt. Boom!! (Have you ever found a seed in an orange or a grapefruit and squeezed it between two fingers as a method of rapidly propelling it some distance away from you? That is the timeframe, force and velocity with which I felt that my motorcycle was ejected away away from me. It felt like a massive unseen hand had flicked the bike out from under me the same way a coiled finger cocked against an opposing finger might might flick a crumb off a table.)

Shock. I'm in the heavy morning commute and I'm lying on the asphalt in a lane of traffic. Where's my motorcycle?! On my hands and knees I look around and see my motorcycle is on its side in the centre lane of southbound traffic; I'm in the lane adjacent to the centreline. Time seems to stop. I carefully stand up, evaluating to ensure that I can stand up. I look at the stunned driver behind me and make eye contact before I do the same in the next two lanes; I limp to the side of the road. I think I picked up one of my boots on the way, and a small piece of my motorcycle known as a frame-saver, which apparently broke off while preventing major damage to the side of my bike.

I take off my helmet, being surprised to see that the visor which was dangling is not really broken, it's just become unclipped on one side. By this time a motorist has parked his car and is walking up to me asking it I'm OK and if he can help. I look at my motorcycle lying in the centre lane and gesture with my arms that I'd like his assistance to raise the bike so I can roll it to the side street, thus permitting traffic to flow freely again. We do this successfully and he again asks if I'm OK and I say yes. By this time another driver has stopped to offer help. I thank him and say it's fine now; I seem to be OK and the bike is now removed from traffic.

I stand there for a minute or so before examining the bike for expected damage. While doing this, yet another driver rolls down his window and asks if I need him to call for assistance. I thank him and say no, I think I must of hit a patch of black ice and I seem to be OK. It's then that I realize that the low angle of the rising run has probably not yet reached the portion of asphalt on which I wiped out. But still, you'd think that the hundreds of cars that have passed this spot this morning would have warmed up the pavement sufficiently to eliminate the possibility of ice build-up. But then again, maybe it was a patch of spilled fuel. Gasoline or oil on asphalt can have a similar effect to ice.

After a quick evaluation of the motorcycle I realize it's probably rideable. Only a bent shifter lever. If my booted foot can still change gears I can ride this thing home and park it.

So that's what I did. Once home I realized the damage inflicted to my body. Nothing really serious but my left hip was very tender and had started to swell by this time. It'll develop into one helluva bruise. That's the worst of it. Fortunately for me this life lesson was learned in slow traffic. This year's motorcycling season has come to a rather abrupt halt.