Friday, October 12, 2012
Zooming, spills, and lessons learned
I've been growing my bravery in regards to scooting.
I've seen those idiots who jump on and think they are ready to fly down an Asian city street.
They truly are idiots, and it usually doesn't take them too long to figure that out.
There are cars and trucks and buses and millions of scooters vying for a piece of the road, usually the same small piece of road, and usually at high speeds.
It's an accident waiting to happen.
And they do happen.
All the time.
My knees have brushed against large city buses and Sean has already been in one fender bender (and no, it was not his fault).
But some things really are just accidents.
And they suck.
Last night was supposed to be a fun night.
A bunch of us hopped on our scooters and went in search of the reservoir again.
Sean rode with Steve because it's much harder for me to control our bike with him on back, and the road to the reservoir has sharp corners, long hills, and lots of stray dogs that relish the chance to run out in front of passing scooters.
I wanted to be in control.
We got split up from Sean and Steve and our other friends. They went left while we went straight. The five of us found this new glorious spot while the four of them ended up at the spot we went to last week.
I didn't like not knowing where Sean was.
I did love the freedom and bliss I felt as I zoomed through the hills, no sound except for the wind whooshing past me and the engine underneath me.
We only had 10 or so more minutes of day light so we took off to join our two groups back together. On the way, things turned ugly.
Our friends turned a corner to find brush in the mountain road.
It was too late to stop or break so their bike went down.
They were able to walk away but not without injuries: swollen knees, torn jeans, huge scraps, bruised hips, and shredded palms.
And that was that.
Sometimes shit happens and you just have to deal with it.
It was certainly a wake up call for me, this novice rider who was taking corners way too fast in the dark with a stupid smile on my face.
I don't want that to be me, or Sean, or anyone else we care about.