I had the brakes on my bike worked on by a great friend, EM [I’m going to refer to him as EM, his first name and where I met him, the Masquerade in Atlanta. I can’t call him by his initials ED, because all I think of is the other ED and he is so not that!]

It’s important to have your brakes checked and your entire bike serviced, just like your car. My brakes have squeaked since I got the bike about 6 years ago. I was told that they would squeak, nothing I could do about it. Not so… New brakes do not squeak.

So, here I am year after year, with squeaky brakes. Then recently, when I started riding again, they got worse and then I could feel that something was not right and I was right. I was only using the front brakes, I didn’t know that it was better to use the back brakes, so I was just using the front ones. I finally realized that I was grinding metal on metal, so at that point, I started using the back brakes exclusively.

Ok, so part of the reason I needed to use the back brakes, I say needed, is that I laid my bike down. I’m OK, so exhale. I am writing to you with all my limbs intact, my skin is still attached, my clothes are fine and my bike is still running. So, here’s what happened:

I was riding home, this was during the time I was still car-less, before Annie II came into my life. It was about midnight and raining, raining being a thing that does not go well with a motorcycle. The light changed, I applied the front brakes, hit some water and down we [myself and the bike] we went. The bike slid and I slid with it. We did a spin and landed in the same direction we started in, facing forward. Someone stopped across the road and asked if I needed help, I said I wasn’t sure, but I did lift the bike, which was what I had to do, that’s the first rule of riding a motorcycle, can you lift the bike from a dead stop or if it falls. Then I stood there for a moment, I think I was in a wee bit of shock, checked myself and looked around. A tow truck had stopped about 20 feet behind me, what are the odds, and a few cars stopped.

A few guys got out of those cars to check on me. One guy tested the bike to make sure it would crank and get into gear, asked me a few questions and when they realized I was ok, they took off. I am very appreciative that they stopped. It’s interesting that people will stop for a motorcycle more than they will for a car, which for a biker, is great. I rode home and got the bike in the garage and then I checked the damage, first to my bike and then to my person.  I know you’re wondering why I would check the bike before me, well, I had to ride it to work the next day, had to be sure it would be alright, even though I rode it home. There were some scratches: the mirror, the foot peg, the windshield, but other than that, ok.

Next, I checked myself. I went into the house and slowly took off things. My gloves were in perfect condition, well, the snap on the side is bent, ok. I LOVE those gloves. They are black leather with red flaps at the wrist, I got them at a Harley dealership in Seattle, they were way discounted, I think I paid $15, originally about $60 and even though I am a lover of animals, I am happy that my gloves are leather, they will protect me. My jacket, which actually is “pleather” was in great shape, save a few scrapes on the left arm [I went down on my left side, by the way], and a tear, but all in all, intact. My jeans DID NOT HAVE A MARK on them! You would not have known that they were involved in a wreck. My t-shirt which was underneath two layers had a few teeny holes on the right side, that was strange and my sweater had a hole in it. My sweater… it was my mom’s cashmere sweater, black and I have been wearing it every winter [the only cashmere that I can handle, normally it’s too itchy] and I was wearing it under my jacket on the bike, there is a hole right in the middle of my forearm.

Then I assessed my personal injuries… My left forearm, where the sweater has a hole in it had a right nice scrape, it was black in the blood, I was a little freaked out, to say the least, then I realized it was fuzz from the sweater! I cleaned out the scrape, I knew I had to do that. I used soap and water and then peroxide, neosporin and put the biggest band-aid on it I could find. That was really it.

Until Tuesday… then the bruises started to show and the bruise on my left hip is something you do not want to see… I think it’s cool, but it’s my leg and I have been watching the colors develop. Imagine people’s reaction when they see it at the gym or scuba, it’s something.  Bruises started showing up all over my person, on my legs and each arm, in the most unusual places, but they are starting to fade and my forearm? That is my first road rash and I am going to wear that scar with honor! I am very proud of myself, no not for the accident or the bruises. I am proud of myself that I had the accident and I was able to get up, pick up the bike, make it home and get back on the bike again, have to get back on that proverbial horse again when you get thrown, right?

I was sore the next day,  a bit more than I was from the car wreck, but I remembered to take a muscle relaxer the night before and the anti-inflammatory pills that I had left over and in a few days, I was alright.

They say there are two classes of rider: those who have laid their bikes down and those who are going to… guess which category I fall in to? EM said it would happen again, not looking forward to that, but I hope I am confident that I will handle it just as well.

This is all part of my exploration of myself and I think I’m turning into an alright chick!