Having violated the top 2 cardinal rules of biking, (Rule #1: You belong on top of Motorcycle, NOT Motorcycle on top of you; and Rule #2: Never work under the side of the bike not supported by the kickstand), I had a few moments, while my chest and leg were being crushed, to realize the irony of the situation. Having ridden for 45 years or so, I’ve heard more than enough people putting out what “Oddball” called “negative waves”, (Donald Sutherland, Kelly’s Hero’s), telling me “that bike” (whichever I was on), would kill me. I always drove safely, knowing it could happen at any time, never considered it killing me with a cold engine! Thankfully, two different neighbors heard my , ahem, perfectly calm , ah, requests for help, (at the top decibels I could produce them!). As they picked the bike up off me, (about 700 lbs of fully dressed 1978 Goldwing), my wife come out of the house. “Oh my God,” she says, “I heard the screams, but I thought the neighbor was calling her dogs…!”
“REALLY??” I said! “Well, next time you think you hear the neighbor calling her dogs, look outside and see if I’m under the effen bike!”
Anyway, aside from a dead original perfect condition “Walkman,” everyone survived! (it was in my shirt left breast pocket, took the initial brunt of fall, but gave me the instant to twist away, letting bike slide to upper right side of chest. Sneezing is now a whole new experience in pain! Lower calf muscle on right leg pinned, just missed bone, crushed calf to about 1/2 inch between ground and bike. I live to ride again, hopefully a lot wiser!