Sporty Write-Off
I WAS recently T-boned for the second time in 18 months, and again it was by a red P-plater. I was heading to work, just spent the night with my lady, when all-of-a-sudden a car pulls out from a side street. Before I could do anything, I smashed into the car at 60 km/h. I ended up over the handlebars, on the bonnet and then on my back on the road.
My Sporty went in the other direction.
As I lay on the ground, I thought, “That’s it, the car is going to run over me and I will be dead,” but the car steered clear.
I had severe pain to my ankle and left leg.
The driver came over and was full of excuses.
“Didn’t you see me?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, “but I thought I could get past you.”
I looked over to where he was meant to give way and asked, “Is that a Give Way sign?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Are you prepared to accept full responsibility for this?”
And again he said, “Yes.”
He shook my hand and called the fuzz and ambos.
I’m holed up at home again, WorkCover has been great, my partner Kelly has moved in with me. The physio said it would be at least six fucking weeks until I can go back to work. I’m waiting for the assessor from QBE to either write-off my bike or start repairing it.
As much as I love riding and being a part of the Harley rider family, I’m just so disappointed at the lack of respect car drivers have for us motorcycle riders. Before this accident, and the one before it, I have had several near misses. These car drivers are just simply ridiculous. I would love to organise a run, rally or protest ride in the New England area, to try and make these fuckwits in cages more aware that bikers have had enough of the crashes and accidents they cause.
I live in Tamworth but grew up in the town of Aberdeen in the Hunter Valley and went to high school in Muswellbrook. I played soccer for the Muswellbrook Golden Eagles Soccer Club. I met some of the best mates I’ve ever had but, sadly, we lost many of our team mates — Walshy, Youngy, Woodsy, Bevo, Kaney, Buddo, Hutchy, Craigy — all before their twenty-first birthdays. So I ride everyday in their honour.
The best part of being in the middle of the Hunter Valley was the roar of motorbikes ripping through town especially during the Country Music Festival. Hundreds of bikes used to cruise through town.
A major turning point for me was while snooping in the shed of my godmother’s, I found a cardboard box full of American Easy Rider magazines. There was at least 20 copies, from that moment on, seeing the bikes, the bearded bikers, the chicks and the tatts, I thought, “Fuck, man, this is it. I found what I’m going to be.”
I heard from the police that the P-plate driver was given a ticket for negligent driving and failing to display his P-plates. I’d like to say thanks dickhead. I was meant to ride up to see my five kids on Bribie Island that weekend for one of my son’s birthdays. I haven’t spent a birthday with him for six years or seen my sons play footy and my daughter in her dance class.
People keep telling me to give the bikes away, I just say, “Never!” The crash hasn’t deterred me in anyway. I love to ride, attend social runs, talk to other riders. I have a soft spot for the elderly riders I have come across. To those who pass and never fail to acknowledge me on the open road, I hope to be back riding ASAP.
PS: I add special thanks to my partner Kelly Maree (Nurse Kelly) for taking care of me, a brilliant lady with magic hands and who is a top cook; to the medical staff at HR Workers; all my supervisors and bosses at Cargill Teys, you people are like none others, totally out of this world; I hope to be back on the slaughter floor ASAP.
Newsflash! Just heard from the assessor — the bike is a write-off.
TROY (WINDSOR), TAMWORTH.
