I’ve not posted in over ten days and I have been avoiding this one for over a month – from the time my friend John rode his BMW into a garbage truck on the way to work. The Pennsylvania State Police cited him for riding too fast for conditions. As John commented “You should be able to stop for something as large as a garbage truck.”
His well ridden (Iron Butt rider) motorcycle won’t see any further service and sets in pieces at his home. And physically the future is cloudy.
His injuries were severe with a month in intensive care and weeks more in acute care. Dozens of medical procedures, operations, and hundreds of thousands of dollars later he’s still in medical limbo on whether he’ll be able to keep his right leg.
Multiple compound fractures, infection, and failed muscle grafts have created a ponderous challenge for John and the medical team. The hospital he’s being treated in has wireless internet access so John has sent numerous dispatches in the way of images, PDF files, and PowerPoint presentations.
I’ve included a few to give you an idea of the physical nature of his injuries. I’ve not included the more graphic ones from early in the process.
For the past few weeks I’ve noticed the accident is present while riding. Situations appear while riding that requires consideration and assessment. That process has come to include a scenario for catastrophe – a direct result of thoughts about John’s accident. I’ve always been aware of the risk that comes with riding but I have begun to wonder about regret.
Like pilots who don’t talk about crashes I question my own mental turning of this subject. For good or ill it is the way my mind works and I don’t easily let stuff like this pass. No matter who or what is at fault in an accident a person is left with their own situation. And I suppose everyone would regret an accident, a bad decision, an unfortunate circumstance. I ask myself thought would I regret ever having gotten on the Vespa if I found myself in John’s situation. If I was spending time looking at an injured leg not in control or sure of what was going to happen. Would I? Would you?
Weighed against those thoughts is the question asked at the end of my life “Would I regret it if I stopped riding or never rode at all?” That answer would be different for everyone and dependant on what place riding occupies in a person’s life. For me, riding is more than transportation and it surpasses recreation. It touches something spiritually fundamental in me the same way photography and writing has. I would be diminished if I stopped riding.
Many riders do stop after an accident. I’ve not considered stopping nor have I become fearful on the road but something has changed. Perhaps I’ve matured. John and I have not talked of regrets but he has said the accident has put him at a major life crossroad. He’s not sure if he’ll be able or willing to ride again.
Surgeons have attached a vacuum pump to the severe wound on his leg in hopes of eventually making it ready for a muscle graft to allow the leg to finally heal and save his leg. It’s a day-by-day assessment.
So I continue to ride to work and make the occasional trip through the countryside with my camera. Riding down the road I’m aware that I am solely responsible for anything that happens to me. I’m not talking about legal responsibility but actual responsibility for living. It’s not a matter of right and wrong. I am the one who has to live in the circumstances I find thinking about this stuff has taken a bit of the luster from the road.