Well, it was the first of October. I was riding along, doing my thing, when I approached a T junction. I indicated, applied the brake, geared down and before I knew it I was on the floor.
I captured it on video - here for your viewing pleasure.
I went down, landing largely on my hands. The bike pinned my left leg, twisting it slightly. It wasn't bad, there were no broken bones, and virtually no scratches. On me, anyway.
The bike's gear selector was bent, and the left footpeg was bent at a rakish angle - a close examination showed the metal had cracked on impact, and the peg looked ready to break off. There was a scratch on the 'CG' sticker on the side panel. The bike was still running, until I put it upright and the wheel touched the floor and it stalled.
I pushed the bike off the road, and sat down in a slump. That was my first spill.
I of course called my missus and let her know - she was obviously upset, but she quickly realised that there was no real harm done to me, and my bike - which she plans on inheriting - was pretty much okay.
I had to take public transport to work - in full gear, with hands and knees throbbing, it was not the most fun. The worst was just leaving the bike behind....
On the weekend, I went to collect it, bringing along some tools to see if I could straighten it up enough to ride. The first thing I did was fire it up - he started right away! What a champ!
I then removed the gear selector, and hammered it until it pointed more or less in the correct direction. The footpeg was a bit more delicate - I was worried I would snap it off, but after some gentle persuasion, it too, soon enough was close enough. I gave it a quick test ride, and it seemed happy.
So off I go, riding again after a few days of train hell. It was awesome!
Before I got back on the bike, I knew I would have to buy a new helmet. It's expensive, but I knew I would prefer to keep my head in the same shape its in now if i could help it, and thankfully my wife agreed with me. We went to Helmet City, and I picked out a bright yellow HJC helmet, which was a bit more expensive than my previous Box helmet, however proved to be worth the difference - much lighter, better ventilation, better field of vision, better Pinlock, and much more comfortable overall.
Also on my no-bike hiatus, I was worried I would have to deal with the possible fear of not being able to ride. I had only been riding for a few months but I was already addicted. I loved riding, and I didn't want to lose the experience to some silly fear. I had a bicycle crash a few years ago, where I was hit by a car. It was almost a decade before I got the nerve up again to ride a push bike. I didn't want that to happen again. So, I got on, and rode away.
However, after a week or so, I began to notice there was something missing. I was riding with my heart in my mouth. When it was time to put my gear on at the end of the day, my stomach would turn, and my palms grew sweaty (like Eminem before a rap battle!). When I was riding, I was ever so nervous around corners - it always felt like the bike was about to tip over again. Going over the slightest bit of road paint made me nervous as it seemed the bike was threatening to slide out from underneath me. Riding had become a chore, and worse than that, it was frightening.
I spoke with a colleague, a seasoned rider. He was sympathetic, and offered a few suggestions.
One, he said the bike was probably out of alignment. Indeed, if I was riding at 20-30mph in a straight line and relaxed the grip on my handlebars, the bike wanted to drop left very alarmingly. I realised I was spending a lot of energy keeping the bike upright.
I also mentioned about how it felt like I was riding on ice when on the road paint. He claimed that was normal - to a point - but if it was really bad, I should look at the condition of my front tyre.
That evening, I stood in front of the bike, and braced the front wheel between my knees whilst gripping the handlebars. I twisted and pulled in an effort to get the wheels in line. As the bike was pulling left, I pushed the left handle (the one with the clutch) away from me, and pulled the throttle side close. I had no idea if I had any effect until I started to ride. At the first opportunity, I got up to a steady speed and relaxed my grip - the bike was no longer so determined to lie down!
I replaced the foot peg bar altogether a few days later, which broke off during removal - glad that didn't happen going down the road.
So, with a steadier bike, I made my way home, feeling better; however the list of things I was worried about was growing:
- I was worried about riding over painted lines - every time I did, I tensed up, waiting for the bike to slide out from underneath me.
- I was worried about turning corners - the bike was still skittish going round bends. I couldn't navigate them unless it was at walking speeds.
- I was worried about cracks in the pavement - if they ran parallel to me, I would worry I would get stuck in a groove and fall over.
- I was worried about patches in the pavement - any irregularity was an open chasm waiting to throw me.
- I was riding in the rain a fair bit, and there seemed to be a huge amount of oil on the roads - rainbows everywhere. I was nervous to stop in the '2' position at a junction, and nervous around corners, and nervous on straights.
In short, I was still nervous.
This went on for about a week. My wife happened to be walking past me as I biked past a corner, and she noticed that I looked nervous going round a junction - not smooth or steady in any way.
Then, a realisation hit me - I knew why I was so nervous.
It was when I was describing to my wife, as we were driving in our car, all the perils I was nervous about. 'There's a bump there, and some oil there, and a crack in the road there, and a gentle corner here..' it was a non-stop barrage of perils being thrown at me. What was I doing differently, compared to what I was doing before I spilled?
I was focusing on the road. My head was down, scanning the pavement 5 to 10 meters in front of me. When I was going round a corner, I was looking at what I was about to run over, not at where I wanted to go.
The next time I rode, I forced myself to keep my head up. I talked to myself - 'look up!', 'look around the corner, where you want to end up!' This made a world of difference. I wasn't nearly as nervous as before! Corners were not a problem. Cracks in the pavement disappeared - I wasn't looking for them, so they weren't there. Suddenly the joy of riding came back to me. I could feel my confidence come back.
It isn't back to full strength. I still get a bit nervous around rainbow colour puddles, but its much, much better now. I am not as confident as before, but I'm not sure its because of me - I think it might be because of the bike. So, there is a weekend of work ahead of me, trying to sort it out.
I will try and do more updates; I haven't really been feeling the full positive experience of riding the last month or so, removing any motivation to write about it. In the works are a few posts I would like to make, and hopefully they will be coming soon. Topics will include:
- Removing a rounded-off aluminium oil drain plug on a Honda CG 125
- Repairing indicator wiring so the right turn signal works consistently (I will let you guess why I need to do this)
- Replacing a side stand (well, the spring at least)
- How to align the wheels on a motorbike
And a real big one:
- How to remove and replace worn cush bearings!
This one is going to be a pain, I can tell. Riding at any speed, with a steady throttle, results in a bucking bronco of a ride. Pulling away smoothly from any junction or corner is nearly impossible - the bike wants to just jerk ahead. The rear sprocket is physically loose on the back wheel, which is making the chain wobble and stressing it out - its stretching constantly. So if things go right, the job will include instructions on how to replace the sprockets and chain as well!
Gosh I have a great deal to do....
