A brief history of my motor-cycling career's greatest moments

	1 The Bike: Suzuki B120 (unmodified). The Place: Rondebosch. The Scene: I was supposed to be turning left, but a jogger stepped off the pavement in front of me. I braked, lost the front end, gracefully stepped over the handle-bars, AND LANDED ON MY FEET. The Damage: The bike got some very minor grazes, I got a stubbed toe! Witnesses: Just the jogger. The Humiliation Factor: I should have got a round of applause... Profound Realization: Jogging is a stupid sport (but I've always thought that :)
		2 The Bike: Suzuki B120 (unmodified). The Place: Newlands. The Scene: I had just finished 'fixing' something on the bike, and had to - despite the fact that it was now raining lightly - go out and test the bike. The bike was going so well that I decided to do a Schwantz imitation round one of the bends (you know, where you put your knee on the ground). Lost the back end, sliding gracefully to a stop in the middle of the road. The Damage: The bike got the usual bent bars and grazes, I got the skinned hands, bruised knee and torn jeans. Witnesses: There would have to be a local walking their dog, now wouldn't there? The Humiliation Factor: Surprisingly low - I didn't know the local, and I blamed the wet road (of course). Profound Realization: Suzuki B120's are delivery bikes, and cost about as much as the left handle-bar grip on Kevin Schwantz's bike.
	3 The Bike: Suzuki B120 (modified: engine fitted into a Honda MB50 frame). The Place: Llandudno turnoff. The Scene: Beautiful summers day. Cruising up the coast road in slops, T-shirt and shorts on my way to the beach. Have to turn right, and, since I've had the bike flat-out all the way so far, decide not to slow down for the bend in order to beat the oncoming car. Footpeg touches the ground, lifts the back wheel, and eases me out of the seat. Bike and myself end up collected against the crash barrier on the NEXT bend. The Damage: Nothing major for the bike. I got quite a badly grazed knee, chest and hands.. Witnesses: The guy in the car whom I'd just pipped, and the guy in the car who's grill I'd almost 'signed'. The Humiliation Factor: Massive. The guy stops his car to come check if I'm alright, immediately starting a 'rubber-necking' procession. On a lighter side, in response to his question as to why I'd fallen off, I replied (with a perfectly straight face) that it was probably because I was going to fast - that floored him :-) Profound Realization: People who have just fallen off their motorbikes and have lots of grazes should NOT still go the beach. The salt water nearly killed me, I couldn't put any suncream on the afflicted areas, and ended up with a chronic sunburn :-(
		4 The Bike: Suzuki B120 (modified: engine fitted into a Honda MB50 frame). The Place: Newlands, just round the corner from my house. The Scene: I'd been practicing locking the back wheel, and sliding the back out (in order to impress people when pulling up at traffic lights). On my way home from a friends, I was doing this down our local hill when I got high-sided off the bike. Went straight up, came straight down and rolled about three times. The Damage: Nothing major for the bike (it literally stopped and fell over). I scuffed one of my favorite jackets, and ended up with a bruised shoulder. Witnesses: Not a soul. The Humiliation Factor: You feel rather stupid (because you are rather stupid), but I'd rather do it in my back yard than in the main street. Profound Realization: Gravity does not like being taunted.
	5 The Bike: Yamaha RD 350 LC. The Place: Sea Point coast road (in front of the old aquarium). The Scene: Coming back from La Med (I was posing, since I'd just fitted a belly-pan to the bike, and it was looking way cool), I was kind of dicing a friend of mine, and lost the back end where the road goes tar-concrete-tar-concrete. I remember watching the bike slide across the road, hit the pavement, and start tumbling along the sidewalk towards some hapless pedestrian. The pedestrian, luckily, managed to sprint out of the way in time. Me, not having control of the bike, decided to focus on things I was still in control of, and managed to come through with only one minor scratch on my freshly-painted helmet (see the footnote at the bottom of this page :-) The Damage: The bike was trashed - I had to borrow a trailer to fetch it the next day (tumbling bikes come apart quite quickly - I had collected a whole armful of stuff by the time I'd walked up to it after the accident). I came through fine, with only some character-building damage to my leather jacket. I was well chuffed that I hadn't written off the helmet as well. Witnesses: A good number of pedestrians, and all the drivers of the cars I'd just overtaken (the last of them being my friend). The Humiliation Factor: It was a pretty spectacular 'exit to stage left', but when collecting the bike the next morning, who was there but the guy the bike had almost smashed into! THEN I felt small. Profound Realization: When choosing friends, be sure to pick one who won't drive over you, despite the fact that you may just have blatantly cut him off, and then have the cheek to crash right in front of him too :-) .
		6 The Bike: Yamaha RD 350 LC. The Place: Coming off the N1 at the Waterfront turn-off. The Scene: I had just put new pipes on the bike, and believed (with all my heart) that I had jetted the bike correctly. After a good flat-out stint, I was slowing for the corner and traffic light when the back locked solid. I ended up sliding for about 20 to 30 meters, to stop (luckily) against the outside off-ramp wall. The in-between bits are all blank, but the right sole of my shoe was ripped clean off, indicating that I'd probably put my foot down after being high-sided (the bike would have fish-tailed with the back wheel locked and me setting up for the corner). The Damage: The bike was all grazed and bent on one side, and the pistons were naturally seized solid in the bores as well. I destroyed an entire office outfit and some (shoes, socks, trousers, UNDERWEAR, belt, shirt, waist-coat, tie, leather jacket, gloves, and my beloved helmet). I got the usual bruises and grazes, and a tiny fracture in my right foot which kept me on crutches for three months (tiny it may have been, but what is it that they say about small things?) Witnesses: Just about everyone on the road. The Humiliation Factor: Guess. The fact that I managed to very calmly pick myself and the bike up, and walk (on my ankle) to a safe spot should give you a very good idea. I also finished a bottle of wine that night, and only discovered that I couldn't really walk the next day. Profound Realization: Sliding on your back at 80 Km/h in the center lane of a highway, looking back at all the little cars bearing down on you, is not one of life's most treasured memories.

7 The Bike: Kawasaki GP500. The Place: Newlands Avenue, at the traffic lights. The Scene: This is actually a friend's bike, and I was actually doing him a favor while he's overseas - a quick trip down to the petrol station for some gas and air in the tires. An Alpha braked and turned off the road, without indicating, about 30m before the traffic light. The car behind him braked. The Golf behind her braked. Myles smacked straight into the back of said GTi. Personally, this is one of my most memorable incidents. I remember getting very disoriented (apparently doing a hand-stand on the bars), hitting the roof of the Golf, and crashing to the ground - 3 very distinct and separate memories. The Damage: The bike received bent front forks, mud-guard, etc. The Golf cost me R3000 because I managed to make contact with the tailgate, the back panel, and the bumper. This necessitated the panel-beating and respraying of all three components, including removal of the back window (which I missed, thankfully). I got BEAUTIFUL bruises on my inner thighs, and had a sore pelvic region for a while. My shoulder also hurt (it made contact with the ground first). Amazingly, despite the fact that I was only wearing a cycling top and jeans, not one item of my clothing was damaged. Witnesses: Everyone on the road, including the same friend as in incident 5, who was again following me, and again didn't run over me :-) And of course, there's the guy's in the GTi you still have to deal with. The Humiliation Factor: High, although I did get an 9/10 for the handstand. The best was the girl one car forward, who got out to see if I was OK. She managed to lock her keys insde the car, with the car still running, in the middle of the road. Profound Realization: The sound of crash helmet disintegrating on tar is not pleasant, especially when your head is inside the helmet.

At this point in time, I would like to point out a few facts. Firstly - I have only once hit anything other that the road. Secondly - I have only once hurt myself to the point where I've needed a doctor's attention. Thirdly - I have been bloody lucky: always wear a good leather jacket, helmet, gloves, solid longs and boots. You only have one body. Fourthly - I still love motorcycling. Given the choice, I would take a motorcycle over an car anyday (yep, even on those rainy, miserable Cape Town specials). I think it is put best in the book 'Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance', where the author compares driving a car to watching TV: images just move past your windows. When you are on a bike, you become part of the scene. On a bike you are poetry in motion, at one with the machine and your environment. Very little, in my books, even comes close.

About my helmet: I had a picture of Calvin (From Calvin and Hobbes) painted on the back because he is my hero. He has a philosophy on life which goes something like: "If you don't end you day with grass-stains on your knees, then you need to seriously re-examine your outlook on life." I, for one, don't want to be just a passenger on this planet. I prefer living my life. Give him a read sometime (or a re-read, even), he's well worth it.