I was in a motorcycle crash in the spring of 2023. My injuries were significant and my recovery lengthy and ongoing. After multiple surgeries, months on crutches, and countless physical therapy sessions, I finally got back on my motorcycle. When I got back home after that first ride, I sat down and wrote what I was feeling.
Today was my first ride since the accident. I did it. I rode my bike again. Man, I’ve been thinking about riding every second of every day since I crashed! Even that day in the hospital I knew I’d ride again. That was never up for debate. But man, it’s been so long. It’s been hundreds of days. That’s wild to me. It doesn’t feel like that long. But at the same time, it feels like a lifetime ago. So much has happened. So much pain, so much healing. I’ve had to deal with a lot physically and arguably even more mentally. It’s been a really tough road, but today, I finally took my motorcycle out for a little spin.
A couple weeks ago I had her towed to the Harley dealership to get everything checked on. She had sat for a long time and I wanted a professional to look at everything and make sure there was nothing wrong. I went down on my chopper due to a mechanical issue. I’d never forgive myself if I hopped back on a bike that had sat for so long and something happened again. That would have been a dumb move. So, I had her brought in for servicing, did some repairs, changed some stuff cosmetically and had her towed back.
I got her back yesterday and I think my old lady knew that all I could think about was riding. Even though today was the coldest day of the year thus far, I think she knew I was taking the bike out. I couldn’t help myself. I’d waited so long. I just took her around the neighborhood. I didn’t even see another car. Just rode about a two mile loop up and down the streets around my house.
It felt awesome. It was cold, but amazing. The bike sounded so good. The pipes were roaring. I shifted through the gears smoothly. She was perfect. I gave it to her a couple times and felt the front end kind of buck up like she really wanted to go. Like she was asking to get up into 6th gear and hit the highway. She’s been waiting too.
But at the same time, it was a little scary! My last ride ended tragically. And it happened in an instant. I guess all crashes happen that way. One second I was riding along enjoying myself, the next I was on the side of the road with a shattered foot and ankle. That accident really showed me how quickly things can change, as if I needed another example.
Hopping on the bike today was an instant reminder of all of that. My plan was just to stay in the neighborhood but who knows what could have happened? Someone could have pulled out of a driveway, I could have hit some gravel, or more likely today, a patch of ice. Something mechanical could have happened. Who knows?! The scary thing is that something bad happened before and that makes it seem possible again. Does that make sense? It was the same with my first terrible accident, almost exactly a year before this latest one. But that was a plane crash and that’s a story for another day.
That first crash is actually how I came up with the name Still Here Lifestyle. I kept telling myself that I was still here. Or that I couldn’t believe I was still here. The words still here rattled in my head continuously. I knew that’s what I had to name this next chapter of my life. But only those of you that have found this blog and read this far know that at this point.
I never in a million years thought something like that could have happened. And surely it couldn’t happen to me. But then it did. That crushed my sense of fearlessness and my self proclaimed invincibility. Once something bad happens, it opens a door in the brain to what other bad shit could happen.
I definitely had that in my mind today for the 10 minutes I was on the bike. I think that’s natural. I’m not going to beat myself up about being a little afraid. I think some fear is good for you. It’s a tool to prevent complacency. It’s important for me to remember my motorcycle accident and my plane crash. They are both opportunities to learn from and to prepare myself for something unexpected to happen again in the future.
All that fear and reservation aside… it felt fucking great to be on my bike again! Cold wind in my face, hand vibrating on the throttle. The click on my toe as I shifted up into second. The stretch in my back as I reached forward to grab the handlebars. Fuck, it just felt right to me! It felt so good to sit on that bike and ride. And it felt good in my brain.
The view I have between my handlebars isn’t just of the road ahead of me, it’s of the world ahead of me. I’ve seen a lot of the country through those handlebars but I know I have so much more to see. My motorcycle feels like a way out of the sadness. It can take me anywhere, physically and emotionally. As long as she’s running and has some gas in the tank, there’s no limit to what I can do and where I can go.
I’m so thankful to be able to ride again. My injuries from the motorcycle crash were really severe. It’s a miracle I can even walk. I’m so thankful to the doctors that put me back together and I’m thankful that my body has been able to get back to a place where I can ride the bike. I can’t say it enough. I’m so thankful to be able to ride again. The motorcycle is such an important part of my life and contributes so much positivity to my existence. I’m so happy to have been able to ride today. I’m still here, riding.