Velskrevne, kloge ord om sikkerhedsudstyr når man kører mc (sakset fra
http://www.lurgen.com/toys/bikes)
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Riding without boots and crashing might cost you some road rash or foot mash
or even in an extreme case might lead to amputation. You might never walk
without a limp. You might battle a weight and fitness problem for the rest
of your life. You might never walk with pain. But it probably wouldn't kill
you.
Riding without gloves and crashing might cost you some road rash or a
Munched hand or the severe, excrutiating pain of mangling a body part rich
with nerve endings. Or you could lose a finger or two. It could cost you the
ability to play ball with your son, to properly feel the gentle curve of a
womans breast, or to hold a beer. But it probably wouldn't kill you.
Riding without at least an armored jacket and leather trousers or full
leathers or an Aerostich or even just a leather jacket and jeans and
crashing might cost you serious road rash. You might grind off a nipple. You
might embed gravel in your elbow. You might get beef jerky all over your
back. You might grind off your kneecap or have a scar resembling Australia
on you calf like a friend of mine does. You would be scarred for life and
not be able to walk on a beach shirtless without feeling self conscious. You
might end up like Kevin Spacey's character in "Pay It Forward" and have to
deal with the same awkward moment every time you remove your clothes with a
new lover. But it probably won't kill you.
Riding without a back protector and crashing in all but rare crashes would
be inconsequential. However, there are so many variables out there- curbs,
fenders, poles, guardrails, debris in the road- any one of these could be
the golden BB that nicks your spinal cord in just the wrong way and leaves
you in a wheelchair for life. Or, maybe you just have constant sciatic pain
in one leg. Or you can't move your legs. Or you have to wear diapers for
when you shit yourself, and/or a colostomy bag you have to pull out of your
pants leg and squeeze your waste out into the toilet at a bar like a guy I
know. Or you can't move from the chest down. Or from the neck down. Are you
good at working joysticks with your mouth? Or maybe you might need a
respirator? Or 24 hour care? Certainly, there are impacts that are
completely forseeable that would permanently injure you even with the best
back protector in the world. But there are crashes and subsequent impacts
that even mediocre back protectors can make that little bit of difference
in- the ones you get up and walk away from, sore all over, but *walking*. Do
you want the last time you walked to be when you walked out of 7-11 with a
pack of smokes and then got on your bike? Those precious few steps out the
door and over to the bike to be the five steps you remember the rest of your
life because the next time you were off the bike you were lying strapped to
a backboard staring at the headliner of an ambulance, tears running down
your face because you couldn't feel the little piggies and you were almost
ready to vomit at the stench of your shit because you lost control of your
bowels? Riding without a back protector and crashing might not make a
difference, or it might make all the difference in the world. It might not
kill you, but it might make you wish it had.
And, finally, helmets. Riding without a helmet and crashing might be of no
consequence. You might never even touch terra firma with your head. Or you
might give yourself an asphalt facelift. You might get a concussion that
results in only a bad headache the next day. You might get a serious
concussion that lands you in the hospital for endless CAT scans and MRIs,
and for the rest of your days be plagued by migraines. You might fracture
your orbital and lose your vision. You might fracture your skull and end up
fully functional but with a horrible Frankenstein like scar and a metal
plate that bothers you on cold days and sets of metal detectors in airports.
You might have a closed head injury from which you don't awaken from for
hours or days or weeks or months- all the while your mother, father, sister,
brother, children, workmates, and/or riding buddies come a visit you,
filling an utterly depressing hospital room into a gauche jungle of flowers
and bright card saying "get well soon!" that you never see or smell. Sure,
you might awaken completely normal besides the hole drilled in your head to
reduce pressure. Or you might awaken a little fuzzy, unsure who these people
are. Or you might awaken and have to re-learn everything it took you all
your life to learn, eventually returning to normal or even better like
Harrison Ford in "Regarding Henry". Or you might awaken a man-child,
drooling and laughing as you try to stack blocks, wearing sweatpants and a
t-shirt signed by your mother, father, sister, brother, children, workmates,
and/or riding buddies- which you will never read. Or you might have an open
head injury, from which the "you" you know will most likely never return.
The rest of your life -be it a day, a week, a month, a year- will consist of
feeding tubes, the endless beep and whoosh of the heart monitor and
respirator, and the drip-drip or IV fluids, catheters in your rod, and
feeding tubes. Of course, you won't mind all of this, you'll be in a dream
land no one knows about. Your body will waste away and atrophy. Eventually,
the shell that used to be you would give out, and your loved ones would have
to make the most grueling decision of their life. Or, you might die on the
road, fluffy gray brain matter mixing with blood and cerebro-spinal fluid.
Perhaps you last ride would be twenty miles an hour down the street by your
house combined with an impatient young driver and an ignored stop sign. Or
perhaps it would be a ride on the freeway and a pothole denting your rim and
popping the front tire off the bead sending you into the guardrail. Or you
might go out in a blaze of glory qith a 100 mph wheelie ending the wrong
way. Whichever way, would make maybe a 10 second news story depending on
where you live, maybe a paragraph buried on page 32B of the paper. Riding
without a helmet could be of no matter- or it could mean the difference
between going on as you are now, or having life taken awy from you as if God
flipped a switch.
I can live without toes or a mangled foot- but I choose to try and prevent
that. I can live with a hand that looks like a burn victim's and maybe
relearn to write with my left hand- but I choose to try and prevent that. I
can live with a scar in the shape of Australia on my calf- but I try and
prevent that. I can live with road rash on my torso and arms- but I try to
prevent that. I could live in a wheelchair, agonizing through every day, but
I chose to try and prevent that.
I can't live as a man-child. I've already played with blocks. I only drool
when I sleep.
We all make choices. Gear can't always save you. All the best leather,
denim, Cordura, Kevlar, fiberglass, and plastic is useless when fate throws
the Immovable Object or the Irresistible Force in your path. But I choose to
stack the deck in my favor. If it all ends up for naught and the stacked
deck and the cards up my sleeve end up losing to Fate's royal flush, so be
it. But I'll try.
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God vinter
--
Adam
(pt. uden mc)