We continued into the waning light and biting wind. Eikeboom made the call to let me lead the way, probably reasoning that as the least experienced rider in the group, I would set a cautious pace. Hitting Gydo Pass, hooligan mode set in and I stormed onwards and upwards, barely scraping through the corners at a speed I almost couldn’t control, my hand frozen on the throttle, telling myself to slow the HECK DOWN.
On a tight corner, calamity struck.
I was drifting too close to the white line, telling myself to slow down and turn in, when I caught a glimpse of a Jetta approaching. Slow down! I chided myself, Turn IN! I was looking around the bend, and thought I’d scraped through, when suddenly I felt a long and solid impact on my right side, and then I was skidding across the tarmac under my bike, watching automotive parts scatter, apparently dramatically trailing sparks.
Swearing harshly at myself for buggering up the trip for everyone, and destroying my bike to boot, I skidded to a halt in the middle of the oncoming traffic lane. To my huge surprise, my destroyed bike was still idling, and I reached forward and hit the kill switch. I jumped up and ran to the Jetta to see if the occupants were OK, wondering how I was going to get back to Prince Alfred Hamlet to report the accident, and what about the rest of the trip.
Eikeboom quickly picked up my bike, pushed it to the side of the road, and started straightening things. Mr Surprising-Presence-Of-Mind flagged down a passing police car, and the two officers got out and sternly started taking details. I wouldn’t have to go back to Prince Alfred Hamlet after all.
After giving out details and taking photos, I walked back to my destroyed bike, only to find it wasn’t. The rear side luggage rack, handlebar, Baskbuster and even front brake lever, had deep gouges in them, but were still in good working order. The back brake lever was bent double and stuck on top of the footpeg, and the front triangle at the tip had sheared off cleanly, probably the source of the impressive sparks. It was foothandled off the peg and bent forward, and I was good to go. I was okay, bit of a bump on my leg and elbow, my newly patched suit leg torn and a small hole at the elbow.
Rips at elbow and knee downwards.
Survivor Bike Africa
Meanwhile, huge lorries came screaming down the pass, often well over the side or middle line of the road.
The parts I’d seen scattering had all come from the Jetta that now sported deep dents along the driver side of the car, front to back, and a destroyed side mirror.
DR650 1 - Jetta 0
I killed the rear view mirror. But I didn’t touch that read door handle!
I was suddenly overwhelmed by awe, love and gratitude for my awesome Father God who saved me. There had been a steady stream of traffic and trucks, but at the moment I impacted, there was only me and the Jetta. Except for the two bumps, I suffered no damage, and didn’t even feel any effects of adrenaline like nausea and shaking. I was loved and protected! My God is great!
Topic: Oasis-Sutherland on the Purple Hooligan: Better stick to gravel, dear... (Read 4107 times)