Coming back from a long term injury, especially from a harrowing road accident, can be a challenging task. If the injury lasts several years, everything changes. The body, metabolism, muscle definition and lifestyle in general. The body adapts itself to safeguarding the injury site and teaching it to treat that site as normal again can be really challenging. even after the injury has been fully healed. I broke my leg in a bad accident a couple of years back. The bone was shattered in multiple places, and now, even though I am close to being normal again, I can’t really forget that I have an injury somewhere in myself and I limp even when I don’t have to. It becomes involuntary.
The 220cc from Bajaj after the shunt.
In such a scenario, how does a person in a predicament like mine come back to enjoying his passions again, riding motorcycles for example? I have come across people who have been victims of motorcycle accidents post which they have never touched motorcycles again out of sheer fear. There are others who have stopped riding two wheelers simply by hearing stories about people like us. But these people form the majority of humanity that don’t treat automobiles, and motorcycles in particular, with passion, love and see them as feast for the senses. I however, do. My love affair started with automobiles the moment I could get a grip of things around me. It was one of those bonds that had deep-rooted cores that stubbornly refuse to go away. My road accident did indeed deter me. But it wasn’t enough to put out the fire.
I used to ride a 220cc Pulsar from Bajaj, which, two years ago, was enough to get around town. When it was originally launched it was the super-sport standard of Indian motorcycles, and I think about it, that is reasonably true today as well, barring a few. (the newer breed). It churned out 21 bhps of power and much of the torque came at the engine mid-range, making it a sweet highway cruiser. But truth be told, you gotta move on to more powerful stuff. Elsewhere in the world where the automobile had its genesis, a proper motorcycle is something that can cruise comfortably at speeds in which a Pulsar 220 would be screaming for dear life. I had to have that true motorcycle experience, especially after being in the broken leg blues for two years. I headed straight to the Ducati showroom, and the test ride experience was petrifying.
To put it in perspective, Ducatis are known the world over for their unpredictable power and character that is anything but mellow. On top of that, my test bike was the Monster 821, which basically has an 800cc twin cylinder engine churning out 112 bhps of pure Italian thoroughbred horses. (This is the last generation 821. The current one makes 109 I guess). I was always keen to ride the monster 821 and had the injury not happened, I would have bought one already. Anyway, 2 years without riding anything and then jumping straight onto 112 bhps instead of 21 was in no way a mellow experience. I will never forget the savagery I experienced the first time I twisted the throttle and the way I had to hang on to the handlebars for dear life. The first 2 miles of the test ride were the worst. Picture a guy straight out of reconstructive bone surgery, remembering all the pain and the agony of being in bed for 24 long months and then mustering enough courage, against the advice of friends and family, and bearing the brunt of all those who asked me to leave riding for good, put on riding leathers and go flat-out on an Italian naked sports, trying to keep up with the sales rep. The ride lasted only 10 minutes. But those 10 minutes were more fun and ballsy than the entirety of my two years in bed.
The point I’m trying to drive home here is, one does not have his motorcycle love tested until one has fallen off it and broken something. In my case, I broke my right leg in five places in an accident where I was knocked unconscious for a straight 7 hours and of which I have no memory of. The leg is now held together with a titanium rod and artificial bone grafts that make it look slightly less than human. But even after all this if my spirit still wants me to go out and ride better and more powerful stuff, I can say with dignity that I have had my first real motorcycle experience and I’ve managed to pass it with reasonable credibility. The Ducati guy said I looked a bit nervous in the mirrors but for me that’s okay. It was the boost of confidence and the assurance I needed that I can still ride motorcycles even if I am limping while walking and the ride was testimony of that. I came out with a head held high and a wicked grin on my face.
The same day I went bonkers on a super-sport. It was a 3 cylinders inline, 675cc maniac called the Daytona…
About the author: Azhar Alvi is an India based writer, photographer and a bloke who loves the smell of gasoline in the morning. He has been writing and photographing his experiences with Machines, Nature and the world at large through his travelogues and articles about anything that says automobiles and travel for a decade. You can find his exploits on Instagram @azzi_tcr
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Your article is appropriate making me think and remember.
At 17 years old, I came off a motorcycle. It wasn't pretty. I was a passenger, not controlling a thing. Rolling down the highway, minutes felt like an eternity. In reality, the crash lasted three minutes tops. My best friend was hurt and I walked away with only a few scratches. My love for the wind in my face never wavered. When I was able, I got back on my bike never forgetting those precious moments.
To this day, those three seconds are always with me.
Thank you for sharing these views, Robert. You are never a motorcyclist unless you fall off one. Cheers!
a walk down the memory lane, i was on my flight to Bombay when i got a call saying, mera accident ho gaya BC, life’s all about grabbing the bull by the horn’s and i of all am glad your riding yours (again)