It's been a long time since I've posted... Years actually. I'm still lurking though.
I currently live in Sicily. This place is no holds barred, freakin bumper cars on the road type driving. I've been around the world and have lived in MANY different countries, this is the craziest place I've driven. Seriously, nobody gives a crap about their life, their car, their passengers, and definitely not other drivers. It's shear insanity. It's scary to drive a car here, let alone a motorcycle.
One day on my way back from work I was riding behind a line of vehicles. As we approached a very heavily traffic'd intersection I noticed that a garbage truck was about to pull out. I figured he didn't see me behind the line of cars. I also figured that if he did see me, he didn't care and was going to pull out anyway... I was right.
I was doing about 60 MPH when he pulled out in front of me. There was a small amount of distance between us so I was at maximum braking without locking up the tires. I should have been good... Unfortunately, there was a "Polizia" (police) car behind the garbage truck that also decided to pull out without looking. The police officer also decided that he wanted to pass the garbage truck as soon as he pulled out...
I'd guess that I was moving about 45-50 MPH at this point and I'd locked up both front and rear wheels by now but, it was too late. The police car had side swiped me... Hard.
His front drivers side door smashed into my right bar end. Both of my tires locked and skidding, I stayed on the brakes even during contact.
I was pushed out of my lane, into the oncoming traffic lane, and off to the wrong side of the road before I was able to stop.
Miraculously, I had kept the bike completely upright during all of this even with the wheels locked up.
Had there been a car coming the opposite direction, I would have been finished.
I jumped off of my baby more concerned for my bike than for my own welfare. My brain was going a thousand miles an hour. I couldn't understand what had just happened and I was completely in a state of shock. I walked around my bike several times trying to get a grip on what had happened.
The police officer did stop to see if I was alright (not expected here). By the time I realized that he was there, he was yelling at me "Tu okay?! TU OKAY?!!" I was really out if it... I was inspecting my bike, top to bottom. I didn't even know if I was hurt. It's hard to explain... Like my brain just went to auto-pilot to make sure my bike was alright.
Finally, I was able to somewhat understand what was happening at that moment. I realized he was asking if I was okay. I took a second to check myself over and said that I was okay. I looked at my bike and the only damage I could see was paint missing from the bar end. Then, I looked at his police cruiser...
There was a crease from my bar end, about an inch deep, from the front of his door to the farthest point on his rear quarter panel. His car was trashed. Paint was coming off in large chunks all around the crease. My head still spinning, he asked me again "Tu Okay?" I said in English, "yeah, I'm okay." He got back in his police car and drove away...
I must have been on the side of the road for half an hour before I could really understand everything that happened. I don't remember his license number, I don't even remember his face....
Eventually, I got back on my bike and rode home.
I still don't remember the ride home..
I've gone from daily riding for years to afraid to ride at all here. I only ride once every other week or so now. The second time back on the busa, I was damn near hit again at the same intersection.
I LOVE riding but, here It's a love of self destruction.
I'm not a very religious man but, something very extraordinary happened that day. I should have been by all rights/reasoning a dead man.
Thanks for reading if you've stayed with me through this.
I currently live in Sicily. This place is no holds barred, freakin bumper cars on the road type driving. I've been around the world and have lived in MANY different countries, this is the craziest place I've driven. Seriously, nobody gives a crap about their life, their car, their passengers, and definitely not other drivers. It's shear insanity. It's scary to drive a car here, let alone a motorcycle.
One day on my way back from work I was riding behind a line of vehicles. As we approached a very heavily traffic'd intersection I noticed that a garbage truck was about to pull out. I figured he didn't see me behind the line of cars. I also figured that if he did see me, he didn't care and was going to pull out anyway... I was right.
I was doing about 60 MPH when he pulled out in front of me. There was a small amount of distance between us so I was at maximum braking without locking up the tires. I should have been good... Unfortunately, there was a "Polizia" (police) car behind the garbage truck that also decided to pull out without looking. The police officer also decided that he wanted to pass the garbage truck as soon as he pulled out...
I'd guess that I was moving about 45-50 MPH at this point and I'd locked up both front and rear wheels by now but, it was too late. The police car had side swiped me... Hard.
His front drivers side door smashed into my right bar end. Both of my tires locked and skidding, I stayed on the brakes even during contact.
I was pushed out of my lane, into the oncoming traffic lane, and off to the wrong side of the road before I was able to stop.
Miraculously, I had kept the bike completely upright during all of this even with the wheels locked up.
Had there been a car coming the opposite direction, I would have been finished.
I jumped off of my baby more concerned for my bike than for my own welfare. My brain was going a thousand miles an hour. I couldn't understand what had just happened and I was completely in a state of shock. I walked around my bike several times trying to get a grip on what had happened.
The police officer did stop to see if I was alright (not expected here). By the time I realized that he was there, he was yelling at me "Tu okay?! TU OKAY?!!" I was really out if it... I was inspecting my bike, top to bottom. I didn't even know if I was hurt. It's hard to explain... Like my brain just went to auto-pilot to make sure my bike was alright.
Finally, I was able to somewhat understand what was happening at that moment. I realized he was asking if I was okay. I took a second to check myself over and said that I was okay. I looked at my bike and the only damage I could see was paint missing from the bar end. Then, I looked at his police cruiser...
There was a crease from my bar end, about an inch deep, from the front of his door to the farthest point on his rear quarter panel. His car was trashed. Paint was coming off in large chunks all around the crease. My head still spinning, he asked me again "Tu Okay?" I said in English, "yeah, I'm okay." He got back in his police car and drove away...
I must have been on the side of the road for half an hour before I could really understand everything that happened. I don't remember his license number, I don't even remember his face....
Eventually, I got back on my bike and rode home.
I still don't remember the ride home..
I've gone from daily riding for years to afraid to ride at all here. I only ride once every other week or so now. The second time back on the busa, I was damn near hit again at the same intersection.
I LOVE riding but, here It's a love of self destruction.
I'm not a very religious man but, something very extraordinary happened that day. I should have been by all rights/reasoning a dead man.
Thanks for reading if you've stayed with me through this.
Glad you made it through that man, those things happen so quick that skill alone isn't always enough.
