Lying on the pavement, my entire body is shaking and my mind is frantically trying to figure out what went wrong. I try moving different limbs to make sure I am intact. I slowly stand up to see my mangled motorcycle lying upside down and my father racing back to help me.
Gasoline is spewing on to the ground along with engine coolant and other miscellaneous fluids. The road is scarred with one-inch deep lines that went on for about twenty yards.
My father helps me pick up the bike and I wheel it over to the side of the road where we assess the damage. Replaying what just happened in my head I realize that I was very lucky.
The ravine to my right could have swallowed my bike and me, and the oncoming traffic I crossed from where I went down to where the stricken bike now lay on its side could have pummeled me as I slid across the road like a skipping stone.
Motorcycles have been a part of my life since the day I came home from the hospital and my father sat me on his old Harley.
When I was 15, my Dad and I bought a 1970 Triumph 650. This would be our project bike for the next year. I would learn how to work on it, taking it apart and putting it back together many times. Although the bike turned out to run beautifully, my dad decided that I needed a bike with better brakes if I would be riding with him.
We bought a 2014 Kawasaki Versys and planned a trip into the mountains. On the first day of riding, a bird struck me as I was leaning into a corner. By the time I looked up again I was on a thin piece of gravel that led into a ravine. I attempted to get the bike back on the road but the back wheel slid on the loose gravel and I was thrown over the handlebars.
This accident changed my whole perspective on life.
Being a teenager, I always thought I was invincible and that nothing really bad could ever happen to me. I now have an entirely different outlook on life and see every day as gift and never take it for granted.
If I had been an inch to the right I would have been at the bottom of a ravine. I also thank my Dad everyday that he made me wear the proper gear or else I would have been in the hospital getting skin grafts.
I was extremely lucky to come out of the wreck with minimal injuries. We spent the next two months fixing the bike so that we could ride again. Now when I ride, I pay more attention than I ever have, and I realize that at any moment anything could happen.
Having gone through this experience, my dad and I became closer than ever. My mom already did not like that we rode and although it might not have been the morally right decision. Hopefully, I’ve moved on from that day, lying on the pavement. Now able to see the road i front of me and the opportunities in brings.
My Dad and I on our motorcycle trip across the United States!
Blake's Blog 