It was well into to the day, my patience had deserted me and my ultra defensive riding technique had also gone out of the window, I’d had enough of the inconsiderate driving that is so typical of this part of the world, and that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it! When coming to a toll plaza all two wheeled traffic is funneled to the far left-hand booth and then down a small path, missing the barriers all together and permitted to continue on your way free of charge, but then there is the problem of rejoining the main traffic flow, and this is where the incident happened. As I approached the centre lane from the far left-hand side of the carriageway there was a gap between two autoricksaws just big enough for a BMW 650 with large aluminum side boxes to squeeze through, well I was convinced there was room. Nailing the throttle hard against the stop in frustration of the traffic conditions I noted that the gap was reducing but still big enough, a couple of seconds after that my front wheel, then me passed between the rear of both vehicles and then just as I was thinking “it’s going to be tight” BANG the bike stops dead and I turn into the human cannon ball at thirty miles per hour, six feet of the ground.

Now those figures may not add up to much but if you stood on the roof of your family car and got your husband/wife to drive it down the road at thirty miles per hour then just took a swan dive on to the road below, you would understand there is more to this than first meets the eye. Landing first on my right hand then rolling across onto my back with a final thud as my helmet met the scorching hot tarmac. Slightly dazed I try to stand and decide straight away to sit back down again, After two minutes of getting my head together I notice that there is somewhat of a crowd around me and so need to get out of this worsening nightmare, rising slowly to my feet I notice my right hand is really painful and fear it’s broken, no time to worry about the hand now, the motorcycle is leaking fuel all over the road and there must be at least twenty people within ten feet of the motorcycle puffing away on cigar ettes, so I try to right the bike but I have no strength what so ever in my right hand. The crowd around me is six deep and all of them apart from one watch as he and me sweat and swear to put it back on it’s wheels. The damage looked pretty bad initially with the headlamp hanging off, the handlebars bent round at a weird angle and most of the dash board suspended by it’s own cabling, but as long as it starts I was sure I could ride it away, if only for a few a miles or so just to get away from the commotion. It started first push of the starter button, I clambered on and rode off to find some sanctuary and assess the damage in more detail, a mile up the road I spotted a quiet lay by and headed over to it, at the same time I saw Trev going in the opposite direction. Parked up the first thing I notice is my right hand, having managed to escape the masses the adrenalin had subsided and now it was feeling very not good, I was just about to open my left side pannier to double does anti-inflammatory and pain killers when Trev appeared and took on the roll of drug dispenser. A brief reconnaissance around the motorcycle showed with a certain amount of kicking, tie wrapping and tweaking I could continue on my way, that was as long as the hand was still usable in the time it took us to do the rectification work. Within half and hour we had done enough to make it rideable and I was mad keen to get going so the hand didn’t seize up and leave me stranded in some dusty lay by.

We rode for a couple of hours and found a hotel with an off license next door, settled into a few cold ones and a bit more spannering before eating and crashing out! The hand and wrist are still painful at times some five weeks later and I now have a lump on the top of my hand about the size of a squashed peanut M&M, it has improved over the weeks and will continue to do so I hope. Bike 77 down, rider OK