It was a little before midnight on July 13, 2007 and I was headed home for the night. It was hot, which was my excuse for throwing my leather in a saddlebag instead of across my shoulders where it belonged, I even did the same for my gloves.
I was heading up to an intersection that I'd been through a hundred times, knew the lights like I know the tick of my alarm clock and when I watched them I could tell they were going green before I got there. So I moved over into an empty lane so I could just flow through without needing to brake, the only other vehicle there was a fellow on a nice Harley, I can't recall the model but I remember it was maroon. I was distracted that night, not that it's any wonder, when one's mother dies and you're on your way home from viewing the body distracting is one of the milder mental states that you're flashing through. A sensible person would have taken a cab, asked for a ride, anything other than hopped on a motorcycle. . . not that it was a surprise to anyone who knows me that I chose the latter option.
As I got up to the intersection I glanced up at the lights again and to my surprise they were red, I snapped my fingers out for the front brake, watching the light go green as I did so. Too late, the message was sent, the fingers were moving, unfortunately they were doing so without the finesse and control they usually have with the front brake. . .
I remember the sound the front tire made as the brake locked and somewhere between that noise and the ground I remembered thinking "you're in a t-shirt dumb-ass, you can't afford to slide you have to roll!" So as I hit on my left side I snapped the left hand out and slammed the back of it into the ground to start myself rolling. All in all it was a good choice, cost me a fingernail but probably saved me from some skin grafts, and I was a little pre-occupied to notice the fingernail making it's exit so it didn't really bother me.
I tumbled a few times, all those years of Judo and Gymnastics helped, it was a pretty smooth set of rolls and a smoother transition back to my feet when I got down around 15km/h. After all, I didn't know where traffic was and I sure as hell wasn't laying in the middle of the road to find out. I got to my feet at a dead run and hung a sharp right, something wasn't right in my left ankle but the boot held it all together and I figured if I could run on it it wasn't that bad, when I felt it transition to grass instead of pavement I stopped and took a seat figuring at least I was safe from traffic.
The guy on the Harley was pretty stunned, he came over to help and when I asked for an ambulance he sheepishly told me he didn't own a cell phone, probably the only guy in the city without one. I sauntered over to my bike and picked her up off her side, I did my best not to look at the damage, that was for tomorrow. I took my cell out of the saddlebag on the left and gave it to him, a few minutes later an ambulance arrived. Nice guy, I appreciated his help.
That one cost me a little over a square meter of skin and had the doc threatening me with skin grafts, the lost fingernail was just a bonus.
The next day while swaddled in bandages and before I headed off to DJ my friend's wedding I hopped online and ordered a mesh jacket. After all, I might be crazy but I'm not stupid. . . twice.
Till next we meet. . .
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