“I’m going to buy a motorbike.”
These few words are enough to strike terror into a parent’s heart. No matter how hard you have tried to let them be independent, no matter how much confidence you have in them, a teenager who utters these words will be met with the blank gaze of a parent. Even if it only lasts a split second before you say, “Okay.”
My younger son was hooked as soon as he had met the ‘ped of his best friend. He wanted one, badly, and set about earning and saving the money to buy one.
I could understand his desire… I’d always wanted a motorbike, but in those far off days it was never permitted. I, in my innocence, still thought of mopeds as those contraptions that were little more than a pushbike with a small motor. It couldn’t, after all, be much more dangerous than riding a bicycle. Except that, since I had last had anything to do with motorbikes, ‘peds had evolved into something you could barely tell from their bigger and more powerful cousins.
Over the next couple of years I got almost used to the phone calls from various ditches. You could tell, just by the tone in which he said, “Mum….” Usually followed by, “I’m fine, but the bike….” But it didn’t deter him, not one bit. Each time a bike needed replacing it ended up being bigger and faster than the last.
The early accidents, thankfully, were fairly minor incidents at low speed, usually caused by his inexperience as he learned to become a good rider. Others were caused by car drivers failing to notice the biker. We almost got used to it. So much so that when my eldest son was just coming out of the coma, unable to speak or focus, one of the first signs I had that ‘he’ was still with us was the way his eyes rolled in humour and absolute understanding when I told him his brother wouldn’t be visiting the hospital that day as there had been a deer…
As the bikes got bigger, the crashes became rare but inevitably a bit more spectacular. There was the one where my stepson called home,
“DON’T let Sue come down… Alex has been in an accident…”
Of course, I was on my way, to find my son’s bike spread across 50 yards of ditch, ambulances and police on site and my son, miraculously, all in one piece minus his footwear. The bike was a complete wreck and it really was a miracle Alex had escaped so lightly… a Land Rover had turned right into his path without indicating or seeing him.
There was the incident on the roundabout where friends happened to see him go down and called me. I arrived at the hospital to be met with police guarding the emergency room door. They wouldn’t let me in. Fifteen anxious minutes later and Alex was wheeled out to go to X-Ray, strapped flat to a backboard with his neck in a splint…
When they finally let me in, all he wanted to know was the damage to the bike and the only other thing that interested him was the fact the paramedics had cut off his favourite leathers. They had matched his bike. Apparently the only damage was a couple of broken toes.
I got used to it, sort of… as much as you ever can. It taught me, as a car driver, to be more aware. Now that he too drives a car, as well as his cherished, special edition bike and the occasional JCB, I know his awareness is high. He is also a new father… and that too makes an awful lot of difference to him.
This week, with the glorious spring weather, the bikers are all out on the road. A few, the youngsters, ride with little heed… that will come with time. Most ride with joy and an acute alertness to what other road users are doing. They have to. I saw so many car and lorry drivers taking little notice… especially as many bikes have been off the road for the winter… and one really awful crash. So please, when you are out there on the roads, that biker is someone’s partner, child or parent. It might be my son… or yours.
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
My brother was a biker, until the last — nearly fatal — accident. It was, as it so often is, a car cutting him off. After that, Matt sold his bikes. All of them. I think he had five, including a Harley cruiser and a Kawasaki that probably could hit liftoff velocity in under 5 seconds. That was it for him. He had survived, barely. He decided he might not be lucky the next time.
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Alex has been riding for over ten years and yep, that liftoff velocity? His current bike he bought from new… #1 of 200 made in those colours… I’ve been pillion when it started pulling Gs.
Like most bikers, it is a love affair… and I’d like to see him enjoy it for many years to come, in one piece.
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Ugh Sue. My brother was/is a biker and I think he’s broken every non-essential bone in his body (skull and spine intact). The ditch scenarios ring a lot of bells. Now my nephew rides. Scary.
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You see, I always wanted to be a biker too, so I ‘get’ it. But first my mother wouldn’t let me… now my son forbids it as too dangerous 😉
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OMG How do you stand it? When my son was about 12 I took a motorcycle in trade as part of my commission on a Real Estate deal and he spent weeks trying to start it in the back yard. The day that he was able to turn it over I sold it. He probably thought I was awful, I knew he wouldn’t take it out of the yard, but his friends would have. I think that he has forgiven me now, he will be 49 this year. Good Luck! You are a better mother than I was.
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No I’m not, just a kindred spirit. I always wanted a bike too…
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ah bikes both powered and not. Had them all, crashed them all and somehow survived. Never gave a thought to what my parents thought, either Almost bought myself one for a fiftieth but sense prevailed I’d love to get one again but… As for Tales from the Ditch. That’s a post in itself.
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The only time I ever knew my son to consider them from a different perspective was when I too thought about getting one for my fiftieth… at which point I was given a resounding NO! and a lecture on why not 🙂
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As always, I think it is our bravery and courage that defines us, but maybe not so easy to live with if its one of our loved ones. Multiple brownie points for being an understanding mum!
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I’m probably more envious that understanding, truth be told 🙂
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Reblogged this on Anita & Jaye Dawes.
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my grandfather was killed in the 1930s when his motorcycle collided with a bus – as a consequence, my father never let us near them
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I can understand that, Paul. In spite of my own love for the things, it was a different thing altogether when Alex bought his.
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It hurt bad enough when I was thrown from horses – I can’t imagine hitting the ground at 60 MPH or more! I have always found the old bikes, Indians especially, fascinating. But I have only ridden once, pillion, and it just scared me way too much, especially as I was working in the morgue at the time!
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Yes, I can imagine the morgue would cast a bit of a damper on bike riding. Especially as I have reason to know that my son was ‘taking it easy’ when he has me on the back at 130 mph… He’s far more restrained now and on the roads, of course.
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Reblogged this on oshriradhekrishnabole.
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I know you can’t protect them forever, but don’t you wish you could? My son also has a motorcycle and he recently bought a used Mercedes to speed around the Nirenberg Ring in Germany while he’s stationed there. Here, we call motorcycles, donorcycles. At least your son has the great good sense to wear the appropriate gear – very important to surviving a crash. Shared prayers, huh?
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Ohh I would love to drive the Ring 😀 I can quite sympathise with your son! I know… I’m hopeless… But yes, it is very different making your own choices from seeing your children take risks with theirs.. yet we have to step back and let them be. x
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My husband had a Harley for years. But he’s not getting any younger (or lighter). We took a long bike trip south and when we returned to our own driveway, he missed his footing and the bike fell over. We took a tumble into the grass beside the driveway. A few days later, his neck was hurting. He went to see a Doc and had an MRI. He was about a quarter inch from being a quadriplegic with his disc squished between two vertebrae. A long and scary surgery corrected it with a titanium plate and a few screws. He insisted it was from an old gymnast injury, but sold the bike a few weeks later. I couldn’t have been more relieved.
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I can imagine! It can come so close sometimes!
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Sue, oh, what a big worry! I do hope he will be protected from all harm! My heart clutches every time husband drives and that’s in a car!! Bikes, yikes!
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You really do get used to it somehow…if your sons are the type to play with tigers, jump off tower cranes and out of aeroplanes. 😀
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Our other car’s a bike but I don’t ride pillion anymore! We live on a tourist route sometimes confused with “race track” ….. I hold my breath every time they scream by especially on the first good spring day….
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The road that runs through the village is pretty much the same..long and straight… and the bikers were out in force with the sun this week too.
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