A motorbike safety course funded by ACC saves money and lives. Photo / File
Opinion
COMMENT:
Just under three years ago, a member of the Devil's Henchmen nearly killed me. He didn't mean to. It was just one of those things.
It happened on a run organised by the Hells Angels. Before it started, I had ridden to my lawyer's house to pick him up.I was on my BMW R1200C, a model of motorcycle that nobody seems to love but me. I had taken the panniers off that day because I thought it looked cooler without them. As was our tradition, my lawyer and I had a beer before we took off. It was a warm day, but not hot. It was a Saturday in March.
We met the hordes at a pub carpark in Belfast, on the outskirts of Christchurch. Maybe 80 or 100 riders, many from outlaw clubs, but most just normal people out to enjoy a day's riding.
And that's all I remember. I have brief flashes of being on the ground, but nothing of the person who helped me – an ex-army guy who knew first aid – nothing of the closed road, nothing of the helicopter trip to hospital. Nothing at all really.
My left wrist had taken leave from my hand. My right ankle snapped. My liver was split, and six of my ribs were in no longer constructed in the way God had designed them. My head hit the road at 100 km/h and my brain did not enjoy it. Every few minutes my mind would reset like a computer and I would ask the same four questions. Eventually the nurses left a note with the answers on my chest. When the switch flicked, I'd see the note, read it and place it back on my chest. I did that again and again. My lawyer witnessed this and rang my mother. "I think you better come to Christchurch," he said.
I would later learn I had been clipped from behind by Woody, a guy I had known since the start of my gang studies in the early 2000s, and a man I'd watched gently nurse his ailing mother in his home. I went to her funeral as his friend. The crash was an accident.
The following morning in intensive care, where only family visit, two Hells Angels wandered in. I will never forget the inappropriate jokes, the loudness and their kindness. One of them is dead now. It turned out he was far sicker than I was. It was cancer.
I was out of hospital in April. But it was two years before I bought a new bike. I found another R1200C for sale in Porirua and rode it home. Through headphones I listened to Kane Williamson and Tom Latham put on a matching winning partnership against Sri Lanka. Riding the new post-quake road through Kaikoura I found that bliss that all motorcyclists enjoy. But the memory of the crash recovery, the terrible, terrible recovery, taught me that I would rather never crash again.
So when the ACC contacted me to say they'd pick up the bill for a day-long riding skills course I said yes in a flash. It wasn't an offer reserved for handsome columnists. ACC cover the $250 cost of the Ride Forever course so any rider can do it for between $20 and $50.
By paying to upskill motorcyclists, ACC is figuring it will save money over the long term by reducing the number of accident related claims. More than 7,500 motorcyclists received treatment or support last year.
So just before Christmas me and four others on the course took a run out to Akaroa on Banks Peninsula. It's the type of ride that's just a fun summer day out. We were followed by an instructor who talked to us through an earpiece about what we were doing right and wrong. What lines to take through corners, when to look for hazards, how to do emergency braking, and the following distance that best allows other vehicles to see you.
These skills help the rider avoid making mistakes but also assist in avoiding the mistakes of other motorists too.
For a short time on the way home the instructor took the lead and the two of us with the most experienced followed him into some faster cornering. We stopped to allow the others to catch up and we were smiling. I was relieved to learn the instructor understood that you can't take the fun out of riding a bike.
Everybody should own one. If the question is in any way-shape-or-form about happiness, the answer is almost always a motorcycle.