Incredible Irony

A bit back, I blogged about motorcycle invisibility. More recently, I blogged about our 14-year-old "Peekaloo" and her bike fascination. Well, those two blogs recently slammed together in an ugly way.

On Dec 24, Dennis and I decided to take a ride and, as usual, Peekaloo ran to her gear. Since it was Christmas eve and cagers tend to be particularly distracted around the holidays, we opted to visit a park about 2 miles from home. Small town, slow traffic, nothing drastic.

Since the weather was chilly, we didn't stay long. Around 1pm, we decided to head home. Dennis and "Peekaloo" were ready before me so, unlike our usual routine, I told them to go ahead without me. After all, we were practically around the corner from home.

They exited the park as I was mounting my bike. As I merged into traffic, I looked ahead and saw an 18-wheeler's trailer on the northbound left lane while the cab was turned, blocking the northbound right lane. I saw a car close to the cab and thought "wow, that truck tried to turn right in front of that car!". Then it hit me. My husband and child would have been heading in that direction.

Several cars were ahead of me but, heart in my throat, praying hard, I rode the quarter mile to the accident and saw both of them splayed on their back, limbs at incredible angles, not moving. I have no idea how, but I managed to stop the bike and remove my helmet and gauntlets while running towards them. As I approached, I saw my daughter try with her broken arm to reach her daddy's leg. She was calling to him. The truck had attempted a right-hand turn from the left-hand lane (both northbound), immediately in front of them. As much as we practiced evasive and stopping maneuvers, this time there was absolutely to reaction time.

The experience from this point is still too difficult to put into words even to close family members. I cannot blog about it right now. Possibly never. All I can say is that the injuries were so severe they had to be airlifted. The reason for this post is to let all those who have followed this blog of our "invisibility" experience (it seems the truck driver didn't see them before attempting his illegal turn) and to exhort all riders to seriously consider wearing all the gear all the time, even for a 2-mile drive. According to the paramedics, ICU doctors, and several surgeons, the only reason I still have a husband and youngest daughter is because of his safety-gear obsession.

They have been through several surgeries. "Peekaloo" came out of ICU on Jan 1st and is now home and, with a lot of physical therapy, should make a full recovery (or close to it) , albeit with extra hardware attached to her bones. Dennis fared worse, since they were riding 2-up so he got hit front and back (truck and "Peekaloo"). Though he's out of ICU, he won't be coming home for a while and he may never ride again (at least not as a driver), but we are optimistic. Or, as in the terms I now think of, "cautiously optimistic."

Since the accident, I don't know why, but I've been asked several times how much we paid for our gear, especially our helmets. My answer? Whatever the price, it was worth every single penny.

Next generation

Over the years, all of our children have shown varying degrees of interest in riding motorcycles but none has been as intent as our youngest daughter. "Peekaloo", at 14, is not old enough for a regular license on which to tack an endorsement. But she seeks out - or invents - opportunities to ride with us. Her almost obsessive love of motorcycling led us to give her an old "fixer upper" we'd gotten from a friend. She is now the very proud (trust me!) owner of a 1980 Yamaha 250 Virago Route 66 edition.


This bike needs a LOT of repairs and even more TLC, but Peekaloo is very mechanically inclined, loves motorcycles, couldn't care less about grease stains, and has at least 2 years before she can legally ride it. For her, repairing the bike is a bonus. So now, every chance she gets, she's out in the bright sunshine, working on her baby, getting to know her, and sharing her excitement with us. I'm looking forward to the day I'll have another riding partner. I'll probably have a very hard time keeping up.

Looking back, I'm very glad Dennis convinced me to take that first step and let him get that first bike. It is great to have something we're all keen on. Not that our family is not close, but as children become adults, their interests change. Kids leave the nest, sometimes becoming geographically distant. But I've found out that one never outgrows motorcycles. Sometimes, life changes may stop us riding for a while, but it doesn't stop the shyest of us from striking up a conversation with a total stranger if there's a bike involved. If it can do that, imagine what conversations at our family table - or on Skype - can be like! =D

Shout outs! - #3

As I remember others who contributed to the fun, I will post more. 

Some may see the blog, others may not. But they were all appreciated!

In no particular order, I give you:

Noelito. My crazy bro, thanks for the blog tips, dude. Next time, come along and be our chase vehicle!


The lovely couple on his and hers bikes we met in Moab, Utah. Thanks for the tips on rider-doggie care. Next time we head to Cali, coffee is on us!


The staff at the Economy Inn motel in Ozona. Our thanks, not just because you were the only motel that had rooms available but because you were very clean, very reasonably priced, and very rider friendly.


The nice couple from the Netherlands we met at the Grand Canyon (her name was Meep [?]) who were taking pictures of our license plate. We met briefly but enjoyed our chat and hope you will visit in Louisiana. Traveling is not just about where you go, but also who you share your experience with. Thanks for sharing it with us!

Monster-making 101

When I finally gave in and said "yes" to Dennis getting a bike, I had no idea what it would lead to. I was very worried about his getting hurt or killed and, considerate husband that he is, he spent the first 10 years of our marriage hinting, cajoling, and sneakily introducing me to riding. But I was still worried for him.

After 5 years of owning a bike and no catastrophe befalling him, I decided I possibly, maybe, kinda, sorta, might want to ride my own. When I mentioned this to him, he took me to his favorite bike shop and had me choose a bike I felt comfortable with. I chose - and he vetted - a little V-Star 250. I felt it was too big, but it was the smallest available and the seat height was low enough to make me feel I had some control over this dangerous behemoth.

At this point, I had my motorcycle endorsement but I did not ride my new bike home. In our area, one can get a motorcycle endorsement on a scooter - which is what I used - and the only criteria for passing the test is that one makes it around the tiny parking lot without dropping the bike/scooter. Yeah, that makes me feel sooo safe.

Once home, Dennis, with incredible patience, set out to teach me. We drove to a large park (I drove the van) and he had me take the bike around the parking lot a few times. From listening to him, I knew the basics, but it's a long way from hearing it and actually shifting and braking. I did this a few times, until I was no longer nervous. Lesson 1: check.

Over the next month, Dennis took me to different areas, teaching me different maneuvers, pointing out possible hazards and correcting errors (we wear helmet radios) as I made them. When he felt I had mastered a particular traffic situation he took me to the next "level", e.i. riding in the park or parking lot, small town riding, surface streets, low traffic, heavy traffic. Eventually, I graduated to interstate riding and I was off! Now that I've graduated to a V-Star 650, he has a hard time keeping up with all the riding I want to do.

Yes, honey, you have created a monster!

Being invisible

Any motorcyclist will tell you this but it took experience for me to really understand and come to terms with this phenomenon. I am invisible. 


My invisibility is not random. It's also not an every day affliction. It only affects me when I am riding my motorcycle. It's true. A car driver can be behind me for many miles, pass right by me, and yet not see me when he/she decides to switch lanes. Like it happened this week on my way back from New Orleans. Good thing there was enough shoulder at that particular section of road. If we had been on the Atchafalaya Basin bridge, I would have become a Rorschach test on the concrete barrier.


As much enjoyment as I get from riding, it is now always tempered by the certainty that every time I throw a leg over the saddle, I have to become hyper-aware of everyone else around me. Does it take the enjoyment out of riding? No. But it does make me aware that, regardless of who is at fault, I will be the one hurt in an accident. Therefore, I order for me to have as many riding days as possible through my lifetime, I absolutely must make sure I do not remain invisible. Easier said than done.


Over the past year, with the invisibility issue lurking in my mind, I've been looking at motorcycles in terms of safety and have noticed that the coolest-looking bikes are invariably in dark colors. Let's be honest: a canary yellow cruiser is just not that appealing and will not sell as well as the jet-black model.


Another problem I've seen is that motorcycle apparel comes in colors to rival an invisibility cloak. Black seems to be the standard. Yes, bright colors are available. But I rarely see anything other than black in stores. Also, I bought my gear before I became aware of the invisibility affliction. I have mostly black gear, which matches my black bike.


Well, after giving this matter much thought, I've come up with several options:

1. continue wearing black, until a distracted driver abruptly re-colors my wardrobe to include a large portion of deep red
2. take out a loan to buy a new, canary yellow bike and all new, neon-bright gear
3. stop riding my motorcycle.... HAHAHAHA!!!!! Yeah, I know that's not really an option.
4. wear a bright, kapok-orange or neon-yellow safety vest over my jacket and add reflective tape to every available surface on my helmet and bike and looked like a geek

Well, coolness be darned! I'll take number 4... Until I save enough for a new Suzuki V-Strom 650. The 2012 model comes in a very visible orange! I wonder if I can get the helmet to match...

Wrap up 2 - Home again

As I write this last entry to my trip, I'm taking a good look at what we have accomplished and realize that the most important thing was the renewed closeness in our family. We have all grown even closer than before, which is great. But we have also learned to see ourselves and each other in a different light.

• Dennis and I have learned that our girls are grown up. They can handle themselves in most situations with a confidence even some adults lack. And we can trust them to solve their own problems without interference from us.
• Azoica has matured into a young adult and has the skills to handle being a "grown up." She can also hold her own in most driving conditions.
• Peekaloo's strong - sometimes fierce - personality has been tempered by close-quarters contact. But don't mess with her or her family; she's still fierce when riled!
• Indi-Mac knows how to stand on her own two feet and has learned she can tackle the toughest trail... if given enough Gatorade...ammo, some chips if you have them... (inside joke)
• Bowser is a resourceful buddy and knows how to travel well. An old dog, he learned a new trick: how to unzip the tent door.
• Dennis has learned not to stick his thumb in front of a sharp hatchet. Mallets are still optional.
• I have learned that I'm able to handle my bike in most conditions without panicking... and that a gel seat pad doesn't really help much.

Now that trip is over, I considered ending the blog. However, I have another motorcycle trip lined up for November. I also realized that a lot of odd, funny, crazy things happen to us most times we ride. So I've decided to continue the blog. I won't be posting daily - trust me, my life is not that interesting, even to me. But I do intend on posting occasionally, especially if I run across a particularly nice stretch of road.


Many thanks to all that read my blog.

Wrap up 1 - Missions

Funny: "acequia", in puertorrican Spanish, means "drought"

Now that we were in San Antonio again, it was time to get all the National Park stamps we needed. We began with the furthest one, Espada, which also has a nearby acequia (aqueduct) that was built to irrigate the mission's crops. Imagine the time and effort it took to build this long, at times elevated, stone aqueduct without modern tools or transportation. It's amazing to see the 500-year (and counting!) staying power of such low-tech workmanship. In our high-tech "disposable" society, this acequia is a sobering sight.


We also ended up "breaking in" at the Visitor Center of the Espada