This afternoon I was heading home after a wonderful afternoon cruising along the Pacific Coast Highway.  Until then it had been a perfect day, hot where I live; but cool along the coast.  A sunny day and the beaches in Malibu were hopping.

It’s amazing how a full charge of adrenalin can put things into slow motion and burn so many details into your memory.  Driving through Camarillo, I had just  crossed an intersection with a green light traffic signal and was coming out of the shadow of the freeway overpass.  The two vehicles that had been in front of me pulled into the left turn lane leaving me with a wide open lane ahead.  I was doing about 30 mph and was thinking of accelerating to the 40 mph speed limit.

But there was a woman coming the other way in a white Corolla, and she was slowing down.  Apparently, when the two vehicles I had been following moved over to the turn lane, I wasn’t the only one who thought they had a clear road in front of them.  Without looking, the woman turned left directly in front of me with the intention of turning into the parking lot of the train station.

I hit the brakes hard and my front wheel locked up.  I thought the sound of my tire screaming on the pavement was going to be the next to last sound I might ever hear.  The bang of my bike and body slamming into the side of the Corolla was the final sound I expected to hear before oblivion.

I took my eyes off the car and looked to where I wanted to go.  And I eased off the brake just enough to regain steering control.  The bike responded beautifully.  Just when I thought I was about to impact the Corolla, the bike straightened up and swerved around the back end of the car.

It wasn’t until I looked down to see if my leg was still attached to my body that I realized I had slipped by without touching the other vehicle.  I had missed hitting the car by less than an inch!

It’s funny how adrenalin affects people differently.  I expected that after such a fast-paced near miss I would be shaky and have difficulty concentrating.  Instead, I found myself calm and quite focused.  I was amazed how well the big bike had responded.  And I was astounded to have escaped without injury.

When I got home I opened a bottle of beer, gave the dog of milk bone, and checked out my tires to see if skidding had done any damage.  I couldn’t find any tire damage, so I must not have skidded very far.  It seemed as if I had gone to hell and back, but that was all in adrenalin soaked time and space.

I’m thinking about the motorcycle safety class I took last summer.  In the class we practiced panic braking and swerve maneuvers.  We were told that in an emergency we should look where we want to go and not at what we want to avoid.  I’m not sure if it was the class training or if my survival instincts just kicked in and I did what came naturally.  It all happened so fast there wasn’t much time to think.  Whatever it was, I’m glad it worked so well. 

Racers may regard an experience like mine as a common occurrence.  But to me it was a big deal.  I’ve been riding for several years, but I’ve never had to do anything this severe before.

I used to hope that vigilance and strong defensive driving habits would be enough to keep me from getting into an accident.  Now I realize that my driving skills are what saved me today.

There’s an advanced rider’s class that I’ve heard about.  I’m not interested in racing, but it might help to practice some of the skills that racers and law enforcement rely upon.  Who knows when such skills will be needed.

Ride safely.

Old Yeller