by Shifty » Fri Nov 25, 2005 11:16 am
If every rider has only one moment that was perilously close call between life and serious injury or death, I just had it.
Last night I was riding along the Ipswich Motorway into Brisbane. For those that don’t know it, it’s a fairly poor quality bit of tarmac and instead of fixing it, they’ve simply acknowledged the poor conditions by applying a lower speed limit of 90km/h. This is despite the fact that the road is the main link between Brisbane and Ipswich (a satellite city to Brisbane’s west) and carries virtually all traffic in that direction.
So here I am last night, returning from a rained-out session at the drags in Willowbank. As I came past the Northern Suburbs/Centenary Motorway turnoff, it started bucketing down, and coming through Oxley the rain lightened up but the road was mighty wet and it was still falling pretty steadily. Coming back into suburbia the speed limit normally reduces to 80km/h, but there are some roadworks in action (perhaps finally fixing part of the road?) so instead it drops to 60km/h prior to this.
I checked my mirrors and rolled off the throttle and slowed to a steady 60km/h, flashing the brake light a few times and then trailing the rear brake lever a little to let people know I was slowing. Checked the mirrors again and the next car was still a fair way back, a few hundred meters at least, and it didn’t appear to be approaching particularly fast.
So, my attention was concentrated on the road ahead, assuming after that check of the mirrors that all was well. Only a couple of hundred meters along I’m still minding my own business at the speed limit and as is habit check my mirrors again to ensure everything is traveling fine. How I didn’t have a heart attack then and there I honestly don’t know. The car behind me was about 20m away doing well over double my speed. Nowhere to go for Mr. Shifty, I just jumped on the throttle and moved as far as I could to the edge of the road and used the brief remaining moment to have visions of me being dragged along under the car. The guy obviously either heard the bike or finally saw me, and just panic braked. He sailed past, sharing my lane and about two inches from my bar end, all four wheels locked up, at about 120km/h.
The only lucky thing is that I had managed to move over just far enough to give him room to pass, and where his car had been pointing when he locked up the brakes happened to direct him ever-so-slightly around me. I can play it over in my head time and time again, it’s like it’s in slow motion – and I did everything right… following the speed limit, checking my mirrors, flashing my brake light… and I still nearly got fucked on. After the massive adrenaline rush I was pretty wired for the next few minutes until I got where I was going (a friend’s house at Tennyson) where I took off my gloves and all but collapsed on the spot.