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A Reader's Ride |
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July 2001 Volume 2, Number 3 Lauranne covers the WIW Rendevous =============
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Just Another Day Ride By Steve Hunter What a great time I had at Jerry's Ironbutt Get-together! Jerry Clemmons and crew sure know how to put on a fine shindig. As always, the folks who showed up keep reminding me what a terrific bunch of people LDR's are. I want to tell you all how much I enjoyed making new friends and putting more faces with names I already know. Thanks to Jerry for hosting this gathering and to all of you who attended. It sure made a good weekend for me! Anatomy of a Near Miss Now for the (almost) grizzly part: After riding nearly all the way to Gastonia from Florida on the slab, I decided to take back roads home. I was leisurely tooling along in the inside lane (#1 of 3) , doing about 40 mph in a 45 zone and passed under an Interstate overpass. Traffic was extremely light. A white minivan comes down the exit ramp on my right and proceeds to cross all three lanes in pursuit of the left turn lane, while heading for a rendezous with Ronald McDonald. I see the van getting closer and apply brakes gently. I'm thinking, "How could this guy not see me in front of him?" He catches up to me and we're now side-by-side. Remembering SIPDE from Motorcycle Training, I start my plan of attack. I brake a little more. The van is slowing down at the same rate that I am and inching closer and closer from my right. I am already blowing my horn. How is it that cage drivers can't see us with high-beams and driving lights on???? Scary! There isn't much escape for me with a concrete curb and median just to my left and the big steel box closing in on me from the right. I brake more. Now the guy is just feet from me. I don't want to just whack the throttle because that would put me directly in front of him. We're now at the beginning of the short left turn lane and that creates a little more comfort zone for me, a little more space from the curb, so I ease over to my left. I *think* he has seen me now, so I never use the panic stop. We're doing about 25 mph. I have to guess at that, 'cause I sure as hell wasn't looking at the speedo at the time! When he finally does see me he is making his full left turn, hits his brakes hard and his front left bumper hits and tears off my right hard bag. The rear end of my Concours swerves way to the left. I almost go down, butt a tempered twist of the throttle and some tricky maneuvering keep the rubber side down and me still on top. Whew! I squeek by in front of him. My saddlebag, spinning like a top, passes me on the concrete pavement and almost causes me to wreck again. It's hard to flick at low speed dodging a moving object. By this time my heart is in my throat and I'm pissed! Luckily, there's nothing but painted 'median' now. I stop the bike, put down the side stand, look at the van and point the most evil finger I can muster at the driver. (That was the index finger, by the way.) He pulls into McDonald's, parks and starts walking toward the restaurant. What nerve! I gather up the errant saddlebag so oncoming traffic won't crunch it. I'm glad I live right. Hehe. There is a Cayce, SC police woman standing by her car and looking at me. She motions me to bring my bike into the gas/convenience store lot next door to McDonald's where she is. She walks toward the van driver, who has now decided he can't get away with it. (snicker again) The driver was an older man. (I have to watch out talking about 'old' people since I'm not that far away...) :-) His wife, daughter (40ish) and her son (~7) are with him. The daughter starts in on me, telling the LEO that I passed them while they were trying to turn left. I stop her in her tracks. She gets close, almost in my face and starts yelling. The nice Lady LEO steps between us. I turn away trying to regain my composure. I am still shaking from the incident which is only a couple of minutes old and don't need someone screaming lies in my face. I remember to breathe and don't let the mouthy lady get to me. She is telling lies making up a story. The driver never says anything. It's a shame that her son is getting this kind of an education from his mom. Really sad. A woman who was walking out of the store at the time of the accident had seen the whole thing. Bingo. Eye witness. Her testimony to the officer was enough to settle the dispute and get the driver two citations and a court appearance. Now, here's the bad news. I have to appear in court almost 400 miles from home or he will get off. If he is not found liable, his insurance company will not replace the saddlebag and bracket. I'll have to leave home about midnight on the 18th to get there in time for the court appearance. Good thing I have plenty of experience doing that sort of riding. LD training pays off. If I look at it from a purely monetary view, I will lose money taking a day off work, plus gas and meals, etc. I think I'll take them one of the "Look Twice, Save a Life - Motorcycles Are Everywhere" bumper stickers. I almost forgot. An emergency quart of oil was in the saddlebag and burst open from the impact. It saturated everything inside - bungees, bike cover, flash light, tool pouch...Aaaargh! I *really* didn't want to have to deal with that, too! And on with the Ride The rest of the ride home was uneventful - for me. I already had enough events for one day. I saw some really nice country side from some nice highways. Sunday afternoon and night was the perfect time to cruise along almost deserted back roads I'd never been down before. I encountered the usual aromas - swine farms, cattle feed lots, new mown hay and burning cedar. Burning cedar? Where's that coming from? The car ahead of me, with its trunk lid vibrating from the bass boom, had incense so heavy inside that I saw the smoke coming out the windows. I wondered what the incense was masking? Hmmm. There were three types of hawks perched on fence posts along the way, all watching for tasty field rats to prey on. One stretch of road had Kudzu forests lining the sides. Kudzu is a vine that was imported from China as fast growing cattle feed. The DOT found another use. It was planted to stop erosion of hillsides along highways. The problem is, that it can't be gotten rid of once it is established. Now, whole forests are filled with it. The trees under the large-leafed vines die from lack of sunlight. The kudzu effectively chokes out forests. In the winter it is a mass of brown, decaying vines covering dead tree trunks. In the summer it is rather beautiful. Somewhat eerie, with shapes resembling gigantic ghostly topiary. On a beautiful little curvy two-lane in south Carolina I rode past a horse farm - well, sort of. There were about five mobile homes in a row, parallel to the road and fairly close together, with the front yards all the same. I wondered if this was a trailer park or a family plot. All the yards were grass-free with raked sand under pine trees. Everywhere, I mean everywhere were horses. Not the living, riding, hay-burning variety, but statues of every description and every possible pose a horse could attain. There were even a few burros thrown for variety. They ranged in height from about one foot (three hands) to about four feet (12 hands). Some were glass or wood or metal, but most appeared to be ceramic of various types. Cheap statuary at best. Talk about tacky! It's another of those roadside visual treasures to store in my riding memories. In Statesboro, GA I saw several local LEO's with blue lights-a-plenty surrounding some guys wearing hand cuffs. The back door of their van was open exposing a new-looking sofa laid on its back. I have no idea what they did to get to wear the stainless jewelry. I guess they won't be celebrating much independence on the 4th. It'll be more like singing the Statesboro Blues for them. Just before dark I stopped for dinner at Huddle House, a clone of Waffle House, but with a slightly more extensive menu. This was the fanciest eatery in town. While waiting for the food, I looked out the window at the town's water tower and noticed a huge flock of birds, numbering many hundreds, roosting on top of it for the night. It seems unusual for them to roost exposed, out in the open like that. Everyone makes a mistake now and then. A woman spilled her glass of tea on her table and asked for a towel to clean it up. The waitress couldn't understand what she was saying and the woman, who was already embarrassed, became angry when a towel couldn't be produced instantly. She screeched in a very humiliating, guilt-trip voice, "Well, I'd a thought you'd have one ryte haindy." (This was south-central Gawjah, ya'll.) There were dark clouds and lightning in the distant southern sky. A man sitting in the booth next to mine, pointing out toward the parking lot, asked me if I was riding that motorcycle out there. I answered, "Yes, sir." and he remarked, "You might get wet." I told him it wouldn't be a problem since my riding gear was waterproof. He didn't seem to be much of a conversationalist and just looked back down at his plate. I wondered if, when I used the term "gear", maybe he started thinking about the tractor at home that needed some work... After all, this was Vidalia Onion country. It said so on the side of the water tower. We meet some really wonderful people on the road and occasionally some real characters. Sometime they are almost too difficult to categorize. This nice gentleman fit in the indescribable group. The lightning storms had passed and were long-gone by the time I reached where they had been and the road was almost dry. The night sky had thin, wispy clouds almost obliterating the moon. Still, there was enough moonlight to silhouette the treetops against the sky. As usual, the night ride for the last 175 or so miles was refreshing. I welcomed the cool of the evening after sweltering all day. The waterproof gear may keep the rain out, but it sure keeps the sweat in! Epilog Another ride with new and interesting experiences is now completed. I did arrive home safely, despite the scare earlier in the day. Glad to be alive and in one piece. I hope everyone else makes it home from their weekend rides okay! Steve Hunter IBA, AMA, COG Concours "Anomaly"; Virago 1100 "Vdog"; R90/6 "Geezer" "Any time is a good time if you know what to do with it." Ralph Waldo Emerson |
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