|I had the first motorbike accident of my life||Budapest: 2018-05-28 18:18|
|Buenos Aires: 2018-05-28 13:18|
Praha: 2018-05-28 18:18
Allright. I wouldn't call it as an accident, per se.
I had my first controlled motorbike rolling out from the road, into a guardrail and falling down, after an about 4,000 km been achieved.
As the saying goes:There are two type of bikers: who haven't fallen yet and who already did.
Welcome to the club!
It didn't happen too recently, but on the Easternmost tour. I was leaving Garbolc, the easternmost settlement and headed toward the next settlement Méhtelek, when there's this curve. Outside of living areas, the speed limit is 90 km/h, on crappy roads like this it means maximum 80-70 km/h speed. I arrived into this corner with seventy, which has an about perpendicular angle, a lot of potholes, uneven surface and sand.
Before the curve I moved to the right to escape a pothole, and while I was returning to the middle of the lane, more potholes right before the corner eliminated the grip and breaking forces of the tires: the emergency breaking under the thousandth of millisecond only put blocked wheels back onto the road.Likewise to Dobogókő, I chose the straight rolling forward - but there wasn't any roadside where I could still turn back. But the guardrail closed my path.Therefore by motion, sliding across the road, I hit the guardrail. The moment of impact:
No tragedy happened, since I was moving forward only by physics then, the front wheel stopped in the pit, and after the little counter-gravity of sudden stopping, I just sat down on the asphalt to the right. The engine already choked when I was crossing the separator, and the safety training completed in April again helped: straight back - squatting - with two hands lift the handlebar, and I quickly stood up the bike again (this was a tad more difficult, as I had to lift it outwards too).
After, by the way
Notes the uselessness of the common people, the lack of values in quantity, while I was working on putting the bike back to the road, four cars passed by and none stopped for a second.
There's a straight brake line on the road, visibly down vegetation under the guardrail, there's a biker putting back a motorbike to the road (Motorbiker? Deserves it. They only want to die anyway.), why should I slow down and just ask:Are you alright?... but if something happens to us ... then we have rights ... and Earth must revolve no more ... but all must weep our drama ...
Finally I had to realize that while I was working on to jump out the bike from the pit too many times, the battery did a complete discharge. I was already on the road, but still couldn't restart the engine. I didn't have too many chances in Garbolc on a Whit Sunday, but I still started to push the bike there, when a fifth driver stopped: who I'm sending thanks again and with his help we pushed the bike which got a sufficient spark. Finally when I was confident the battery regained a sufficient charge, I stopped in Csaholc for a roadside repair shop, since as very fortunately the bike didn't suffer any damages (thanks to the front fork protector) but the mirrors wobbled outwards: picking up the 14 spanner from under the seat, and in about 15 minutes against the blazing hot sunshine, I was again ready for the road toward Debrecen.
Items of my luck:
- I got away much better that I let the bike move forward and after crashing into the guardrail just fell onto the roadside plants. If I had panicked withBut I _must_ take the corner!and for example with a right turning and leaning pressed the rear brake harder, then I would fall down on the asphalt. Which would cause sure fractures, cracks and tearing aparts.
- even if I had ridden 10 km/h more, most likely I wouldn't get away this easy: my left leg would remain between the bike and the guardrail, while the momentum would still take my upper body away
- I quite seldom and only after confidence favour companies by name: Alpinestars gets many stars from me. This is what the SP Air leather gloves took for me, after meeting the steel guardrail, at its joining point seeing on the first picture:
What would have happen, if I had used the daily, not full, thinner city gloves? Certainly wouldn't be able to continue the travel and I wouldn't be able to use my middle-ring-small fingers for a long time.
What would have happen if I hadn't used any gloves at all? I rather not think into it, the knuckles from my hand would have disappeared, at least.
Even more is worth to mention besides, after many months and thousands of kilometers, it still retains the scent of leather.
- in respect of the gear, besides the gloves the coat got a bit: the upper layer corduroy got teared apart a few inches wide rip on the arm; it can be sewn. I was completely astonished, but I didn't even have brush away any grass or flowers in rigor mortis from my boots or the pants.
Of course, right, I had an ensanguined bruise on the back of my left hand, and felt the hit in my left arm in the evening - but one gets worse if just slips on the street in a T-shirt.
Nothing, really. I didn't drive fast but defensively, I wasn't tired, I was concentrating on the road, the weather conditions were good, the motorbike in tiptop condition, I comprehended theDangerous curvessign - and ultimately I have taken such turns thousands and millions.Although, I could easily add a fucking humble opinion, that other parts of the country which aren't that much wealthier, or two corners farther settlements in the same region - they put visibility warning signs on even astronomically less dangerous curves, on far better quality roads than this one.
Before the curve filled with potholes, which one can take with a realistic 30 km/h; a 40 km/h speed difference would require way more attention.
Don't putTriple Country BorderpointandEasternmost pointsigns at your settlement, if you can't provide sufficient - in your responsibility - safety for the visitors.
And motorbiking didn't become a single inch more dangerous than before.