Here is my long drawn out crash story. It isn't very severe, but it is one of those things that makes you dust of the Bible for that reason. I am just about healed up from this wreck. It is awesome to be able to walk again. I am just missing 1 piece to fix the bike now. I would like to add, which I didn't know at the time that I wrote this, that my knee pain that wouldn't go away was actually a ruptured fluid sac under my kneecap. I thought road rash just really really hurt. Turns out it doesn't...
Background
I am 21 years old, a fairly new rider, a diesel mechanic by trade, and I have a family. For as far back as I can remember, I have been interested in semis and (specifically) Harleys. It wasn?t until here recently that I started riding bikes. Safety was always a big thing for me when I decided I wanted to ride, and taking the MSF course was top priority. Around here there are only a few testing sites and I had to wait a full year to get in. I took the first class of the year this year and passed it only loosing points on the emergency stop by going 1 foot over standard, and actually getting a better grade than those in the class who were already riders (I had written a few miles before taking the class, but I still considered myself to really have never touched a bike). Our instructor was a motorcross racer and IMO was excessively hard on everyone. However, when it comes to riding, I don?t think that was a bad thing. I left there knowing that emergency stopping needed work. I have my own comments about the MSF course, but I will keep those for a different time?
I picked up a beautiful 1981 Suzuki GS250 (GSX250) that was in near perfect condition. We were riding GS125?s in the msf class, and the 250 was nearly identical to those bikes, just with a slightly bigger engine. I am 6?2?, and the GS250 is physically small for me. I feel pretty crunched up on the bike and my knees can hit the bars if I am not careful at full lock. To say I can put both feet on the ground would be a serious understatement. However, for some reason I love this bike. I feel really comfortable with its 380 pound weight, its 29HP isn?t scary at all, and I feel it is pretty nimble. It will also cruise at 55-60mph with no problems. Most everyone thinks it is much bigger than a 250 (considering I can take it on the highway with no problems and not hold back traffic), and I have had a lot of people think it is a new bike. They are quite surprised to find out it is older than me.
Up to the fateful day, I had put about 600 miles on the GS and was getting pretty comfortable with the clutch, brakes, and handling. I had practiced braking, clutch control, and swerving on this specific bike and was pretty comfortable with it. I did realize that I was still new and I did not have a massive ego. That itself could have saved my life.
The Ride
It was 80 degrees (15 degrees over average temp for the day), and the last nice day before a solid week of storms. I got off work from 3rd shift and had plans to ride about half the day and catch a couple hours sleep before going back into work that night. I had a 140 mile trip planned all through the back roads (60 mile trip on the highway). I much love riding through the country than on the highway. I grew up on a farm and you miss a lot of the country side on the highway. The trip was down unfamiliar roads
With the bike ready to go, directions attached to the tank, and my sissy bar bag packed, the bike was ready. I had on a DOT ? helmet with face shield, glasses, steel toe leather work boots that covered the ankle, gloves, new pair of jeans, and a real heavy denim jacket. I had meant many times to go get riding leather, but I never got around to it. I knew that jeans didn?t hold up to spills that great, but I had read many times that many riders feel safe enough in jeans, and I knew my top speed would be only 40mph, so I felt like I would be OK at that low of a speed. Although I had ridden on the highway, I intentionally avoided that until I had good leather.
I reached my destination town 70 miles away about 2 hours 15 minutes after I left and filled up with fuel. I had seen some real beautiful country side, and had the best ride to date yet. It was so awesome that I knew I was going to go down this route again in the future. My trip back home took me down a different route, although still all through the countryside. After a short break, I was off.
About 10 miles into my trip, I met this guy on a Harley on a back road. I don?t know what I did to **** him off?maybe my Suzuki had more chrome than his bike?who knows. We were the only two on the road and he started screwing with me, cutting me off intentionally, ect. I was getting pretty uneasy and I did stupid things such as locking up the brakes and target fixating. Since he had no helmet and a wife beater on, I could see him sitting there and laughing. This went on for 7 miles until I shot down a side road and finally lost him. I was now completely lost and still pretty shaken up. It took me about half an hour to find out where I was and get back on my route, including missing my turn twice and coming within about two feet from sideswiping a dodge truck since I wasn?t paying much attention as I was still really shaken up. Once I got back on my route and got settled down, things got back to normal. I had calmed down and was once again enjoying the ride.
I was about 40 miles from home going down a nicely paved section of road in an area that was being developed into a housing district from the way it appeared. Speed limit was 40mph with no traffic at all, and I was traveling about 30mph. The road was mostly straight, but had a few long sweeping curves.
As I came out of a long sweeping curve (a 60mph corner), I seen another corner straight ahead that was obviously a little tighter. As I started into it, I quickly noticed that it was a decreasing radius corner that never seemed to end (about 120 degrees). I held steady throttle at 30mph and was doing fine looking deep into the corner. It would have been a 40mph corner without thinking, but riding slow enjoying the sights.
The rest of it is pretty fuzzy. I do remember being about ? of the way through the corner when I seen that the road suddenly turned gravel. Yes, the nicely paved road turned gravel right in the middle of a decreasing radius turn with no warning signs at all. All I remember is saying ?oh ****? as soon as I seen it, and I remember hitting the ground before I got **** out. I remember being in front of the bike with the bike pushing me and I frantically trying to get out of its way. The next thing I remember is leaning against the guard rail with my bike on the ground. I don?t know if I high sided or what, but somehow I got in front of the bike. The neighbors were outside about a ? mile away and came rushing over. They said they heard me go by and then all of a sudden things went quiet and thought something happened. I just leaned against the guard rail until they got there.
I looked myself over and I looked OK. Nothing was hurting. My jeans were shredded and I could see that my legs were bloody, but I thought I had just got scratched. They helped me get my bike back up and look it over, just minor damage and nothing that prevented it from being rode. I stayed leaned against the guard rail for 30 minutes before I even thought about going home. During this time, the neighbors told me a few stories.
They said that this happens 2 or 3 times a year to riders. Myself, I don?t see much how I could have prevented or saved this (with my experience level, more experience might say otherwise). I was looking as deep into the corner as possible, was going 10mph under the posted speed limit, and by the time I became conscious of the gravel it was all over. Even if I was able to straighten it up, I am not sure the outcome of that would have been much better as the neighbors informed me. You see, this section of road was built pretty much like a bridge. On the outside edge of the corner, the dirt has been washing away. On the other side of the guard rail is a 25 foot drop off nearly straight down into a rocky, dry creek bed. The guard rail is about 4 foot tall. The bike stopped about 2 feet from the guard rail, and since I was in front of the bike my head was over or nearly over the ledge. Being such a tall guard rail, both me and the bike could have easily slid under it. The neighbors informed me that has happened to riders in the past with fatal results. If I was going any faster, or had a bigger bike (inertia), I may not being writing this right now.
I had the road blocked, and when cars started backing up, I decided it was time to leave. I thanked them for all of their help, mounted, and hit the key. It fired right up like nothing happened. I wiped the dust off of the unbroken mirror and readjusted the headlight and was off. At this point, I wanted nothing more than to just go home, but I was still 40 miles away. I got about 2 miles down the road and got a bee into my shirt. Yes, I bee somehow went down my shirt and started stinging me. He got me quite a few times before I got the bike to a stop and got it out. At this point, I was thinking what else was going to happen. I was then watching out for tornadoes and lightning despite there being no clouds.
