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Cresting a rise west of where 217 connects to 26, I had a “moment” this morning. 

I was humming along as usual, in the left lane, on the right side next to the dotted white line.  The car in front of me slammed on his brakes.  I followed suit, locking the rear wheel in the process.  The rear wheel starts to slide to my left as I grab more front brake further unloading the rear end. 

At this point I have no idea why the car in front of my is slamming on it’s brakes when it had been doing 65.  But the idea of rear ending him doesn’t exactly appeal to me, so I follow suit.

Then I hear the impact.  The guy in front of me just hit something.  A flash of gray as a milk crate bounces off the concrete barrier to my left.  You know the kind.  With the metal reinforcement ring at the top. 

Amazing what the brain can catalog when focused.

A split second and it was over.  I’m back on the throttle to escape panic stops in my rear view.  Gone.  After I see more fresh debris against the median, I move over into the center lane until the concrete median transitions to open grass. 

Hmm…  I need to work on my panic braking skills. 

The FJR has ABS and linked brakes so I can hammer both ends with confidence.  The SuperDuke isn’t as advanced on the techno scale.  Must practice that one.     

Some f#ck-stick in a PT Cruiser tried to take me out this morning. I was coming down the ramp from Sandy onto I-84 West bound. The lane I am in runs for over a mile before exiting at 17th. A moron in a light blue PT Cruiser pulls out of the main flow and into my lane without a glance. I laid into my pathetic horn, tried to kick his front quarter panel as I was doing my best to avoid the concrete wall. I squirted past him in the end and let him know he was number one in my book this morning. Ugh.

How do I know it was a ‘him?’ He pulled up next to me near 17th after I merged into the flow. I glanced over and he was yelling out his window. Based upon his pale facial coloring and the lack of angry gestures, he might have been trying to appologize. I was too busy expressing his number one status to care.

How was your ride into work today?

I’ve noticed this (One of ‘those’ days…) is a very popular page. Today I re-read it. I saw a couple more typo’s and places where I wasn’t very clear. But more than anything else it was frustrating and disappointing to revisit that moment.

I know the guy had a life before all of this. He made a bad choice, but his choices had consequences far beyond his limited world. I had multiple conversations with the insurance companies. I learned his name, Mason Andrews. I learned that the driver he hit was terrified to get back in a car and was vowing to never ride again. I know that it took me almost a year to stop thinking about what I saw when I got back on a bike. Maybe that is why I still feel that tightness in my chest when I think about it. It was a brutal moment. Exceptionally fast and infinitely slow.

Spilt blood, bent steel, torn carbon, shattered glass, falling tears, and bare feet.

I still ride, obviously. The SuperDuke is in the same class as the S4R. And I have been seduced by carbon, ti, and steering dampers. But I try not to make those kinds of mistakes. I know what I don’t know. I don’t know the KTM well enough yet to really push it. I do know that you don’t push in rush hour traffic, at least not like that. Sure I break the laws and occassionally lane split when it suits my purposes. I use the power of that v-twin to scoot past the cages that would block my progress. But I also know what happens if I make a mistake…

Live. Ride. Breathe. Feel every moment. And understand that one choice will cause those ripples to move away from you and impact other’s in ways that you never imagined.

I reread this post tonight and realized it needs another edit, so here is a new version with fewer grammatical errors and maybe a bit more clarity. It wasn’t exactly a good day when I wrote all of this down. 28-Aug-2008

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Let’s skip the wind up and boring crap. Shall we? On my way to work I had front row tickets to the event of a lifetime and I really don’t mean that in a good way. I witness the spectacle of a Ducati Monster S4R 1000 slamming into the back of a Toyota Celica on I-5. This wasn’t a glance or a simple traffic incident. It was full-on high speed impact with a trip to the trauma ward. Read more…

Crisp fall air.

Gliding through the light post-rush hour traffic, rounding the corner.

Heading down, into the valley, an upward gaze.

A mystical fog hovers over the road, a vision from film and fantasy.

Wispy tendrils of vapor mask the canyon walls.

Trees hidden, emerge slowly as I near.

A shudder as the ambient temp drops.

Off to work… I ride.