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Stayin' Alive


Close encounters of the furred kind

The last thoughts before I hit the ’roo will always be clear in my mind: I’m going to hit — stay on! With that, I did two things — kept my eyes high and maintained the accelerator... WHACK! ... a heavy, 100km/h whack. Oh it hurt, it really, really hurt! I can remember that, too.

I was very fortunate and it could have been a lot worse regardless of my few survival reflexes. Someone famous once talked about a drowning man clutching at straws — here are my straws and I am thankful to you-know-whom that I am writing this article. The kangaroo came out from the left at about half speed for a kangaroo.
I had about a second or maybe two seconds warning before impact. There was no time to avoid or brake. Somehow I thought to do two things. One, lift my eyes off the ’roo and fix them firmly down the road. The main idea, as I said, was to stay on and this would help with my line and stability. You tend to go where your eyes go.

The second action was to keep the throttle where it was — not faster, not slower. Again, this was for the stability of the bike. And then it was crunch time. I love my old VX 800 (1990 Suzuki) it really is stable. We did a bit of a wobble but we kept going where my eyes were focused. I slowly backed off the gas and gently applied the brakes. Coming to a halt was a little difficult. I knew I couldn’t rely on the left leg, so simply holding the clutch in and using the front brake I stopped against the camber of the road.

Using my left heel I got back into first. I was too close to the road’s edge for safety and so moved to the other side where I could get off. My traveling buddy, Ringer, had lost me in his mirrors and so had returned and helped me off. I could hobble so we guessed it wasn’t broken. Then, looking back up the road, we saw the ’roo lying dead in the middle of the road. We rode up the 100 yards or so and Ringer dragged it off and took k the picture.

In the picture ... that smile you can see disguises a lot of pain! It’s more a grimace than smile. Notice that there is no weight on my left leg and that I am pointing to my left boot. The shoulder of the ’roo and my boot connected. Big lesson and reminder to us all — wear your boots!
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What to do now? It was about 70 direct kilometres from home and about 130km the long and planned way home. I could at least sit on the bike. I didn’t take my boot off because I reckoned it would swell, so we finished the planned trip taking the long way home. The last 40km I was very conscious I had an injury.

Bear, I am happy for you and your readers to offer some constructive criticism for the benefit of us all. I can see a couple of things I did wrong. I should have turned back. I underestimated the extent of the injury. Second, in the picture notice how close the scrub is to the road. Living in the country, I am a very ’roo-conscious person (generally). With scrub that close, even on a straight road, 100 km/h is too fast. We all know that...

One of your readers might think I was either riding too early in the morning or too late in the afternoon. Nope. I don’t ride early or late (after 4pm) when the ’roos start to move. This picture was taken at about midday (note the shadows). Kangaroos are like Queensland radar: anywhere, anytime.

Just to finish the story, this is what happened next. The bikie-chick (ex-nurse) bound the leg; ice packs, elevated, anti-inflammatories TLC etc (I’m worth it). The next day, while it was badly bruised, I went to work and hobbled and tried to keep the leg elevated. And same the day after that, but it was getting blacker and sorer. By the third day I was in agony, my foot was blue and black from toe to knee, I could not walk or stand.

The X-rays showed it was not broken, but all else was mangled — the sole of my foot had been crunched onto the foot peg, the main ’roo hit was on my very swollen shin. I’ve been two months now in recovery ... and still have a sore leg ... but the bike’s OK!

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