White Rhino
Race Dog
- Joined
- Aug 19, 2009
- Messages
- 3,930
- Reaction score
- 6
- Location
- Johannesburg *South Africa*
- Bike
- BMW R1200GS
My son Davin, now 27, was left with a debilitating condition after an attack of bacterial Meningitis when he was just 16. Most often this disease produces a fatal outcome if you don’t catch it in time and treat it accordingly within 48 – 72 hours. If not fatal, often digits are lost, hearing is impaired and the like. After a near death saga and five months of rehab, Davin picked up his life, albeit in a wheelchair, aced his schooling and went on with his life with some adjustment from his old lifestyle. He drives a modified car and gets around pretty easily. Truth be told, he’s up to his 6th car already, having written off 2 of them; no thanks to his eagerness to be a Schumie. Thank goodness he’s simmered down and now drives affordably.
His motor nerves don’t quite make it to his feet. He has partial impulse up to the knee. They must have been damaged by the cellar attack of the disease. He’s recently had a bout of stem cell therapy to see whether there is a take up. The next few months will tell.
Anyway I had been wondering how I could share some of my great biking experiences with him. After much deliberation and pondering over the risks, I decided to give it a go. Although I would consider the 800GS a safer bike than the Harley, mainly because of the handling and the braking ability, It would be easier and more comfortable and easier to mount and dismount on the Harley.
Even though he hadn’t had any experience as a pillion, he was quite excited and said he was keen to try out. I must admit I had mixed feelings, if something were to go wrong, it would be tough to deal with. His mom would most likely have my balls for bolognaise.
However, if it worked, then it could be quite a thrill for him. The concerns I had were his feet slipping off and dangling around, as well as what control he had over his hips. I drilled Google for other people’s experiences and info. Surely I’m not the only one trying something like this. Sadly, there wasn’t anything useful. That worried me - was I attempting something I shouldn’t be? Anyway there’s always a first time. And we would do a trial run at a slow pace. He would wear ATGATT.
He had his first fall off a Quad last December on a dirt track. Nothing serious he hit the brakes hard when I did an unexpected stop right in front of him – he kissed the dirt and rolled around. We all had a good laugh. So the ice was broken.
I picked a day when we were visiting some cousins out of town. The weather was perfect. Rolled out the Harley, kitted him up - hoisted him on, and strapped his feet to the pegs. Loaded his chair into the Landy, waved goodbye to the wife and co, and off we went. The first 30 metres proved to be the most challenging. Our driveway has an incline of around 40 deg. It has claimed many artisans and delivery men’s clutches trying to reach the top. It is a disconcerting test of one’s incline skills.
He was hanging on for dear life. I could feel him shaking. I’m looking for any signs of sideways movement from him which suggests a potential off. Forwards was fine I could prop him, and the seat rest would hold him in the rear. I took it very easy negotiating the traffic. His senses must have been overloaded with inputs; the impatient and self serving traffic, the asphalt rushing below, the wind resisting, the angled leaning, the bubbly noise of the straight through zorsts, the mixed smells of congestion and nature and the sense of speed and thrusting power of the 96 cubic inch engine.
Once we had cleared the heavy traffic I could feel his anxiety go like a plug releasing trapped water. We headed towards Magalies, over the koppies, round some twisties – nothing like Long tom or the beauties in the Cape, but still just enough to tease. We push on to Harties to one of the new estates that has its own landing strip for fixed wing aircrafts. My wife’s cousin is in the flying fraternity and often flies to work, beats fighting traffic. When we arrive, I see the biggest smile on Davin’s face. He was in his element. A little taste of freedome. We will do more.
Pictures before we left.
His feet strapped to the pegs.
His motor nerves don’t quite make it to his feet. He has partial impulse up to the knee. They must have been damaged by the cellar attack of the disease. He’s recently had a bout of stem cell therapy to see whether there is a take up. The next few months will tell.
Anyway I had been wondering how I could share some of my great biking experiences with him. After much deliberation and pondering over the risks, I decided to give it a go. Although I would consider the 800GS a safer bike than the Harley, mainly because of the handling and the braking ability, It would be easier and more comfortable and easier to mount and dismount on the Harley.
Even though he hadn’t had any experience as a pillion, he was quite excited and said he was keen to try out. I must admit I had mixed feelings, if something were to go wrong, it would be tough to deal with. His mom would most likely have my balls for bolognaise.
However, if it worked, then it could be quite a thrill for him. The concerns I had were his feet slipping off and dangling around, as well as what control he had over his hips. I drilled Google for other people’s experiences and info. Surely I’m not the only one trying something like this. Sadly, there wasn’t anything useful. That worried me - was I attempting something I shouldn’t be? Anyway there’s always a first time. And we would do a trial run at a slow pace. He would wear ATGATT.
He had his first fall off a Quad last December on a dirt track. Nothing serious he hit the brakes hard when I did an unexpected stop right in front of him – he kissed the dirt and rolled around. We all had a good laugh. So the ice was broken.
I picked a day when we were visiting some cousins out of town. The weather was perfect. Rolled out the Harley, kitted him up - hoisted him on, and strapped his feet to the pegs. Loaded his chair into the Landy, waved goodbye to the wife and co, and off we went. The first 30 metres proved to be the most challenging. Our driveway has an incline of around 40 deg. It has claimed many artisans and delivery men’s clutches trying to reach the top. It is a disconcerting test of one’s incline skills.
He was hanging on for dear life. I could feel him shaking. I’m looking for any signs of sideways movement from him which suggests a potential off. Forwards was fine I could prop him, and the seat rest would hold him in the rear. I took it very easy negotiating the traffic. His senses must have been overloaded with inputs; the impatient and self serving traffic, the asphalt rushing below, the wind resisting, the angled leaning, the bubbly noise of the straight through zorsts, the mixed smells of congestion and nature and the sense of speed and thrusting power of the 96 cubic inch engine.
Once we had cleared the heavy traffic I could feel his anxiety go like a plug releasing trapped water. We headed towards Magalies, over the koppies, round some twisties – nothing like Long tom or the beauties in the Cape, but still just enough to tease. We push on to Harties to one of the new estates that has its own landing strip for fixed wing aircrafts. My wife’s cousin is in the flying fraternity and often flies to work, beats fighting traffic. When we arrive, I see the biggest smile on Davin’s face. He was in his element. A little taste of freedome. We will do more.
Pictures before we left.
His feet strapped to the pegs.
