Well, ow.

[smescrater]

Today’s lesson is that metal fatigue can strike at the most random times, and that falling off motorcycles hurts.

Thankfully I was going <5 miles per hour, however I am now a mess of aches right now.

So, today was going really quite well, I’d moved up from the Yamaha ybr 125 to the Suzuki Gladius, and I had found that the Gladius was a far easier beast to control (less gentleman parts squashing on the emergency stop certainly). All was going well and I’d gotten to the end of the day and was just doing some U-turns. My U-turns as it turns out were (until this point) rock solid. The same could not be said for the rear brake pedal of the Gladius. Mid way round my umpteenth U-turn of the day, my turn was met with a *plink* and a *tinkle* and all of a sudden I found my right foot had nothing to do. My bike riding audience will understand the significance of this, especially during a U-turn. I managed to stop the bike, turn the engine off and call the instructor and we both had a look at the nice shear line where metal fatigue had caused the pedal to choose that moment to snap off. We scratched our heads, the instructor assured me that it wasn’t my fault and we swapped bikes.

This is where the problem started.

Having spent all day on this bike, I’d gotten used to its clutch and the way it handled. Whilst I was moving to an identical bike, I found some slight differences in the handling (as well as evidence that it had been dropped). At this point perhaps I should have suggested that we either called it quits for the day, or perhaps I should have spent some time getting more acquainted. What I did instead was to move straight back into U-turn practice. Bit of a mistake that one. Call it tiredness or inexperience in handling bikes but on the very next turn, mid turn I found I was going too slow and couldn’t correct. Cue one thump, and I’m on my right side and the poor bike is lying on top of my right leg. Ouch.

At that point my confidence was shot, the instructor helped me up and suggested I go again.

I went again, and did exactly the same thing, only this one was nastier. Not sure what I did, but the end result is that my right knee is scraped, my right wrist has some nasty bruises and welts, and oh yeah, my right boot is completely and utterly mangled. The sole was torn off, and there are some nice scuff marks. Erk.

The instructor suggested I move back onto the 125, but I will admit at that point my nerves were shot for the day. It was 3.30 and I’d been riding since 9AM, and after falling twice and hurting myself, the adrenaline coursing round my system was telling me that fine motor control was simply not going to happen after that point. Even writing this several hours later and post taking some kalms, I can still feel I’m somewhat hopped up on brain panic juice.

I have my mod 1 test tomorrow, and I don’t mind admitting that now I’m somewhat nervous. My confidence on the slow riding stuff is now dented, and I’m feeling somewhat shaky about biking in general. However I’m still going to give it a go on the 125 as suggested, nothing ventured nothing gained. I just hope that various bruised muscles don’t lock up before tomorrow else I’m a bit banjaxed. Oh yes, and I now need to head out to the trafford centre and attempt to find a replacement pair of boots I can ride in tomorrow.

Oh joy! The things we do in the name of mid-life crises and having some time before starting work!

Mirrored from Tales of the gentleman misadventurer. Please leave comments there thank you!