My regular readers will recongnise the picture above and probably also realise why I have posted it (again). Yes, today is October the 18th and it is 10 years to the day since I found a semi-trailer on my side of the road in this corner.
The accident was my first (apart from a couple of tip-offs) in nearly 38 years of riding and it changed my life dramatically. According to the doctors and staff at A&E at St George Hospital, I was very lucky to be alive at all and it was only my insistence on wearing all the protective gear that I could that had saved my life.
It was a long recuperation including nearly six months in a wheelchair and during which time I sold off all my bike gear and swore I would never ride again. Within 18 months, however, I was back on a bike and have ridden straight trough since then.
I owe my recovery to my amazing wife and family who patiently crept along with me until I could creep by myself. Without their care and devotion, I would not have survived. I learned to deal with amounts of pain that have never really gone away despite the passage of time and I learned again what I had already known before, that nobody looks after their mates like motorcyclists do.
I learned to love riding again, progressing from barely being able to manage 100 kms a day to being able to again enjoy long-distance touring.
I learned that, regardless of how dire your situation is, there is always someone who is worse off than you are. I like to think that I bore my situation as well as a person could and tried to help those caring for me to not be any more inconvenienced than I could avoid.
But most of all I learned that there is no substitute for love and for that I will be forever grateful.
It’s been a great 10 years, thanks for coming on the journey with me.