When you've commuted to work every day on a motorcycle for 32 years-with much of it on the same highways-you tend to notice people who traverse the same route. Especially on motorcycles; those who choose the two-wheeled form of transportation in the car-crazed society of America obviously tend to stand out from the crowd.
Whether it's the portly rider on the Gold Wing with the old metal-flake open-face helmet, or the guy on the blue GSX-R with primer-gray tailpiece, or the college student riding the clapped-out '70s-era Honda CB350, many motorcyclists are on a daily schedule just like yourself. When you see them every morning for days on end, you don't really take note of them all that much. If they turn up missing on your daily commute for an extended period however, you tend to notice. Your thoughts might briefly conjure up theories on why they're missing; maybe their bike had mechanical issues, or perhaps they sold it, or possibly they just might have decided not to ride for a while. You hope that it's not due to the worst-case scenario: an accident.
There are some riders, however, whose riding habits tend to tilt the odds in favor of the latter. And while you hope that an accident isn't the reason for their absence from the morning commute, often it's only a matter of time before that loaded dice they keep on rolling eventually comes up snake eyes.
There was once a rider aboard an early-model Honda CBR600 with no lower fairing who was notable for his impatience in traffic. I'm usually pretty good about keeping an eye on my mirrors for faster traffic, and I'd usually notice him approaching and move over to let him by. One morning, however, he seemed to appear out of nowhere, and suddenly all I could hear was a wildly revving engine and horn beeping behind me. I moved over as quickly as I could, yet he still stared at me angrily as if I had been holding him up for hours, and derisively waved his hand as he sped by. His hapless passenger onboard that morning was visibly getting flung back and forth, struggling to counter the abrupt throttle and braking maneuvers as they darted in and out of traffic.
A few seconds later, I noticed cars swerving violently ahead in the distance. Traffic quickly began slowing to a halt, and I managed to scoot over to a lane that was actually moving. I soon came upon the unfortunate reason for the traffic backup: the CBR was lying on its side in the fast lane, parts strewn everywhere. The rider was being attended to by several motorists, and writhing on the ground in obvious pain. His t-shirt (no jacket) was shredded, and it was easy to see even at a glance that he had suffered abundant roadrash. Sitting on the ground next to the center divider was the passenger, helmet off and a shell-shocked look on his face. Needless to say, I never saw the CBR rider again on my commute.
There's no denying that we're involved in a dangerous sport, and we take a risk every time we swing a leg over our bike. There's not much fun in toodling around at a snail's pace and riding in absolute paranoia, either; we ride sportbikes after all, and there's no guarantee no matter what or how you ride that an accident won't be in your future.
An abundance of riding skill-while surely helping your cause-is no guarantee of invincibility as well, especially if you continue to push the risk envelope. A motorcycle industry veteran who was well known for his skillful feats of derring-do while riding (which I witnessed firsthand during a new model sportbike launch, watching him average 100-plus mph along an often busy section of a coastal road and make dangerously blind passes of automobiles in corners) managed to skirt the hand of fate for many years, and I thought that he must've had a hall pass of some sort to have survived unscathed as long as he did. Unfortunately, the odds finally caught up with him, as he was seriously injured in a single-vehicle accident while riding with some friends. Thankfully he survived, but apparently it was touch-and-go for a while during his initial recovery.
It's all about understanding and managing the risks for the particular riding situation as best you can. Wear the proper gear, maintain your concentration, and pick your spots to up the pace-while keeping the necessary reserve. Hopefully you'll continue to enjoy our sport for years to come.
Another old pilot adage: "You start with a bag full of luck and an empty bag of experience. The trick is to fill the bag of experience before you empty the bag of luck."