Andy J
Hero member
- Location
- Isle of Man
I don’t wish to appear to be being over dramatic, but it has to be said life can sometimes travel along that line and depending, perhaps more often, on luck more than anything else, you somehow manage to survive to live another day.
One such event happened to me on Wednesday during, what had started out as, a carefree ride around the Manx countryside, following a shitty day full of frustrations.
By mid afternoon, of an extraordinarily good day weather-wise for early October, I had decided I needed to get out for a ride and enjoy the good weather while it lasted.
I chose the ‘should have been a Jota’ over the 500 Lav, as I had decided I was going a bit further than usual and I didn’t fancy the noise and harshness of the ride on the 500 over some of the roads I was planning to take.
I guess it was about 4.30pm as I headed north over the mountain section of the TT course, by which time it was already starting to get a bit busy, but generally I had a reasonably clear run to Ramsey. I stopped in Ramsey to take on more fuel and then headed further north to Andreas, and then onward, on country lanes, to the coast road at Smeale, turning right at the junction to Bride. Apart from a concerned horse rider, I didn’t really pass anyone else on the road to Bride, rejoining the slightly more main road back to Ramsey.
By now, it was getting on for 5.30pm, so I was well aware there would be a steady stream of rush hour traffic heading northwards over the mountain, from Douglas, and the sun was also starting to drop down towards the horizon. But unperturbed, as I have a drop down internal tinted visor, and insulation tape stuck to the top of my external visor, to help shield my eyes from a low sun, I still wanted - as you do, whenever you can, if you are sport bike rider in the IOM - to get another run in over the mountain.
However, mindful of the traffic and the sun issue, I set out to ride the road in a much more conservative fashion than normal, and that decision may well have either saved my life, or incurring life-changing injuries.
I followed a van for quite some distance from Ramsey before feeling safe enough to pass, and repeated the cautionary approach to overtaking the few other vehicles I came up behind on the run through to the Bungalow. I barely exceeded 100mph in places I would generally be hitting 150+ and was, by my standards, loitering along at mostly 70-80mph, rolling off early into the bends and only using part throttle coming out. I didn’t even get beyond 4th gear for most of the time.
I swept through the Bungalow, over the tram tracks and with a clear road ahead accelerated briskly, but by no means using full power, towards Hailwood Heights, and the highest part of the course.
Noting the ‘convoy’ of traffic coming towards me, and mindful that when I turned into the right hander before the approach to Brandywell the sun would be in my eyes, I again rolled off early at the start of the first right hand curve.
I guess I was traveling at around 80-100mph before I started to roll-off, and I was more-or-less at the apex of the curve, when, to my shock and horror, I was confronted by a complete and utter, impatient fuckwit, in a SUV type vehicle, heading towards me on my side of the road.
I instinctively braked hard, momentarily locking the front, before releasing the pressure and steering towards the narrow gap between the offside of his vehicle and the edge of the road. He presumably also braked and moved slightly to the left allowing just enough room for me to flash past inches from the side of his car. Having ‘saved’ myself from a full frontal or glancing blow, I was still heading left on a bit of road curving right. I tried to avoid running off the road, but I was virtually in the gutter as I passed his vehicle and couldn’t avoid momentarily running onto the grass verge, or probably better described, roadside ditch, which, with all the recent rain, was like a bog. Needless to say that set off a weave and just when I thought I might regain control I was highsided out of the seat. I came down hands first and sliding on my front I watched my previously, pristine, low mileage Tornado pirouette up the road in front of me. One small mercy, neither of us ended up under a vehicle coming the other way.
I was up and running to pick my bike up within seconds of coming to a halt, despite having a fair bit of pain in my hands, arm and knee, moving it to the safety of the side of the road.
There was absolute chaos for awhile with people running around, others trying to impatiently get passed, but order was soon regained and the traffic commenced flowing again. A couple of people came over to check me out and tell me the police and ambulance had been called, and also that they had tried to photo the car that caused the accident, which had driven off. I was told he had already overtaken several cars previously in, what they described as, an unsafe manner, and the latest manoeuvre was, in their opinion, just plain dangerous driving.
The ambulance duly arrived and cleaned my cuts and abrasions and applied a plaster to the hole in the palm of my right hand. Although a little shaken, I was remarkably calm, no doubt due to the relative minor damage to me. I hadn’t really looked at the bike, but had spotted the front brake lever didn’t seem to be pointing in the right direction.
The police finally arrived, more of which to follow as there is another side to this story that hacked me off almost as much as the crash itself.
I’m obviously counting myself very lucky to be walking wounded, a few miles an hour quicker and I’m sure it would have had a different outcome.
I don’t really know whether my luck has been in or out as I have now had three near misses on the Benelli, having met drivers on the wrong side of the road, and in places close to where other bikers have died in the last couple of years.
My missus thinks, having fallen off, I should sell all my bikes, but of course I subscribe to the view, ‘if you fall off your bike, you should get straight back up and get back on again…..’
P.S. Before anyone makes the remark, ‘Tis a mere scratch, it will polish out’, I’ve done it first!
One such event happened to me on Wednesday during, what had started out as, a carefree ride around the Manx countryside, following a shitty day full of frustrations.
By mid afternoon, of an extraordinarily good day weather-wise for early October, I had decided I needed to get out for a ride and enjoy the good weather while it lasted.
I chose the ‘should have been a Jota’ over the 500 Lav, as I had decided I was going a bit further than usual and I didn’t fancy the noise and harshness of the ride on the 500 over some of the roads I was planning to take.
I guess it was about 4.30pm as I headed north over the mountain section of the TT course, by which time it was already starting to get a bit busy, but generally I had a reasonably clear run to Ramsey. I stopped in Ramsey to take on more fuel and then headed further north to Andreas, and then onward, on country lanes, to the coast road at Smeale, turning right at the junction to Bride. Apart from a concerned horse rider, I didn’t really pass anyone else on the road to Bride, rejoining the slightly more main road back to Ramsey.
By now, it was getting on for 5.30pm, so I was well aware there would be a steady stream of rush hour traffic heading northwards over the mountain, from Douglas, and the sun was also starting to drop down towards the horizon. But unperturbed, as I have a drop down internal tinted visor, and insulation tape stuck to the top of my external visor, to help shield my eyes from a low sun, I still wanted - as you do, whenever you can, if you are sport bike rider in the IOM - to get another run in over the mountain.
However, mindful of the traffic and the sun issue, I set out to ride the road in a much more conservative fashion than normal, and that decision may well have either saved my life, or incurring life-changing injuries.
I followed a van for quite some distance from Ramsey before feeling safe enough to pass, and repeated the cautionary approach to overtaking the few other vehicles I came up behind on the run through to the Bungalow. I barely exceeded 100mph in places I would generally be hitting 150+ and was, by my standards, loitering along at mostly 70-80mph, rolling off early into the bends and only using part throttle coming out. I didn’t even get beyond 4th gear for most of the time.
I swept through the Bungalow, over the tram tracks and with a clear road ahead accelerated briskly, but by no means using full power, towards Hailwood Heights, and the highest part of the course.
Noting the ‘convoy’ of traffic coming towards me, and mindful that when I turned into the right hander before the approach to Brandywell the sun would be in my eyes, I again rolled off early at the start of the first right hand curve.
I guess I was traveling at around 80-100mph before I started to roll-off, and I was more-or-less at the apex of the curve, when, to my shock and horror, I was confronted by a complete and utter, impatient fuckwit, in a SUV type vehicle, heading towards me on my side of the road.
I instinctively braked hard, momentarily locking the front, before releasing the pressure and steering towards the narrow gap between the offside of his vehicle and the edge of the road. He presumably also braked and moved slightly to the left allowing just enough room for me to flash past inches from the side of his car. Having ‘saved’ myself from a full frontal or glancing blow, I was still heading left on a bit of road curving right. I tried to avoid running off the road, but I was virtually in the gutter as I passed his vehicle and couldn’t avoid momentarily running onto the grass verge, or probably better described, roadside ditch, which, with all the recent rain, was like a bog. Needless to say that set off a weave and just when I thought I might regain control I was highsided out of the seat. I came down hands first and sliding on my front I watched my previously, pristine, low mileage Tornado pirouette up the road in front of me. One small mercy, neither of us ended up under a vehicle coming the other way.
I was up and running to pick my bike up within seconds of coming to a halt, despite having a fair bit of pain in my hands, arm and knee, moving it to the safety of the side of the road.
There was absolute chaos for awhile with people running around, others trying to impatiently get passed, but order was soon regained and the traffic commenced flowing again. A couple of people came over to check me out and tell me the police and ambulance had been called, and also that they had tried to photo the car that caused the accident, which had driven off. I was told he had already overtaken several cars previously in, what they described as, an unsafe manner, and the latest manoeuvre was, in their opinion, just plain dangerous driving.
The ambulance duly arrived and cleaned my cuts and abrasions and applied a plaster to the hole in the palm of my right hand. Although a little shaken, I was remarkably calm, no doubt due to the relative minor damage to me. I hadn’t really looked at the bike, but had spotted the front brake lever didn’t seem to be pointing in the right direction.
The police finally arrived, more of which to follow as there is another side to this story that hacked me off almost as much as the crash itself.
I’m obviously counting myself very lucky to be walking wounded, a few miles an hour quicker and I’m sure it would have had a different outcome.
I don’t really know whether my luck has been in or out as I have now had three near misses on the Benelli, having met drivers on the wrong side of the road, and in places close to where other bikers have died in the last couple of years.
My missus thinks, having fallen off, I should sell all my bikes, but of course I subscribe to the view, ‘if you fall off your bike, you should get straight back up and get back on again…..’
P.S. Before anyone makes the remark, ‘Tis a mere scratch, it will polish out’, I’ve done it first!
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