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Less Than a Second to React
Less Than a Second to React
It was just a typical Friday evening ride in late spring. We had once again made our sub-hundred mile loop around Lake Lavon northeast of Dallas. The torture rack we had for a seat at the time forcing us to stop at predetermined distances. The weather was exceptionally nice and we had watched the sun set from the picnic area on Hwy 78 overlooking the lake. Just a short ride south on Hwy 78 from the picnic area to Hwy 205 and we stopped once again, this time for barbeque at Big Daddy’s Barbeque (I definitely recommend this as a stop if your hungry).
After quenching our hunger we decided to call it a night and head for the house to relax with a movie before getting some rest for the Saturday morning ride. I purposely took the back roads to keep away from traffic around Fire Wheel Mall and soon we were riding west on Beltline Rd.
In the mirror I had noticed another rider behind us, he was closing in slowly on us and once again I knew my speedometer was leading me astray. By the time we reached the traffic light for Jupiter Rd he was maybe sixty yards away and since the light had been green for some time I didn’t think he would make it and was wondering if I would.
This intersection is a busy one and the lanes on the west bound side of Beltline shift to the right about half a lane as you cross the intersection, at times this design will increase the pucker factor so attention to other westbound traffic becomes very important.
This night however the traffic had already cleared the intersection as I approached it and my attention was focused on the eastbound car sitting in the left turn lane. I thought I noticed its headlights move up slightly then dropping back down as if he wasn’t sure if he had room or if he should wait. Then as I was about a quarter of the way into the intersection he went. I still had the green light and so did he but he was supposed to wait for oncoming traffic.
I was traveling between thirty-five and forty miles per hour and he had been sitting still until his mind told him to go. I grabbed the front brake as hard as I could while keeping it from locking up and hit the rear brake so it would slide. I drifted the rear to the right towards the car. With other traffic in the oncoming turn lane behind him I didn’t have anywhere to go so my choice was to scrub off as much energy as possible before the impact, which came with a mighty WHAM!
The impact stood the bike back up and threw the rear to the left. It was heading for the median and the sign standing right in the middle of it. That was the last thing I remember until we were about forty feet past the intersection and I somehow was regaining control of the dancing rear wheel that was swinging from side to side.
I knew my wife was still with me as her fingers were embedded in my sides. The first thing I said was “I hit that guy!” immediately followed by “Did I hit that guy?”. The response from behind me was an astounded “YES!”
Somehow I limped into the parking lot and stopped then attempted to regain some composure while she pried her fingers out of my flesh and tried to gracefully dismount. I remember it took four tries before I could get the side stand down and shut the bike off as help arrived. You would think that this only took a minute but the reality was the guy on the bike trailing us had stopped at the light and waited until it turned green again before he crossed and came to help us.
It was a very short time before we had many witnesses stopping to give their story and information on the driver that took off. Everyone said exactly the same thing; after the loud impact and as violently as we were bouncing side-to-side they couldn’t understand how we didn’t go down.
With the help of the other biker we managed to find the point of impact on my bike. Can you believe this! I hit that car on his right rear quarter panel behind the rear wheel with my right floorboard. I had a four-inch long blue paint scratch on it but no other damage. Everyone that stopped to help and even the police that came all told me what a fantastic job I had done keeping the bike under control.
But I know better and said so at the time. I attribute the quick reaction to the Motorcycle Safety Course I had taken almost a year earlier. This training set us up for surviving this accident to the point where we were heading for the sign in the median. From that moment until we were forty feet past the intersection and regaining control I wasn’t involved with the decision making process. Call it what you want, divine intervention, guardian angel or just plain old dumb luck, all I know for sure is it wasn’t me!
With my bike in okay condition and the police report taken care of I offered to go get the truck and come back to pick up my wife but she refused saying. “If I don’t get right back on I might never do it again.” We were only a mile from home and that mile was ridden slowly checking for any signs of mechanical trouble and hoping to inspire some reasonable measure of confidence back into my wife.
We skipped the ride Saturday morning and chose to have the bike checked by the professionals. While we always wear helmets she didn’t have anything else for protection in case of a mishap. The bike got a clean bill of health with only an hour of shop time charged and the dealership got some serious sales in their apparel department. After all even though I really do like my bike I can always replace it, but I only have one wife and her selection of biker wear took less than a second for me to react “Put it on the card”.
