A lot of people like to play biker in this world and usually they are the best dressed for this costume party we call life. See, real bikers are defined by one article of clothing and that is a patch on their back. Any sissy punk accountant or doctor can afford a 22,000 dollar harley and all the leather but no punk poser wuss can buy a patch. The patch makes the man. See to get a patch you have to go through an extensive probationary period after being selected by a club to be a prospect. This is not easy. There are too many snitches out there trying to infiltrate clubs (John Tait burn in Hell). Any punk can run over to the store and get a Harley Jacket but only a real biker and top notch tough guycan get a patch from a good top notch club like the Pagans, Outlaws, Angels, or Banditos. Anyone else who is not in a recgonized 1% organization is just a punk citizen poser imposter And that is what makes me mad. All these people trying to act hard when they ride around on their new FatBoy. The truth is real bikers don't have very steady work and don't buy expensive bikes because the Feds just impound them and confiscate them. The guy riding the big shiney Harley is just some working puke who dresses up on the weekend and then monday morning he is all "Yes, Sir, no, sir". If someone is acting hard take a good look at their hands. Are there tattoos? How about spider webs? Colors? Any poser biker at least knows better than to get fake colors on his arm, he knows the brothers of that club will cut them off. I love bikers. The real hardcore 1%ers who live life on their own terms. And maybe I am a low life hang-around for giving them free tats. But I respect them. They live life hard and fast and they wear a sign on their back screaming to the rival clubs "Kill me". Now to me that is cool. To walk around wearing a patch to me is the ultimate sign of pride and brotherhood. I could join teh Elks, Mosse, eagles, Maso
ns or any other club tommorrow but only a handful of real tough hard core bastards can get into a hardcore biker club and I respect them. I totally diss anybody who steals these mens thunder. And tries to act cool and hardcore when they are just some working puke living a fantasy. What kind of person spends so much time and money trying to emulate the most vile and despicable elements of society, who wants to imitate the unlawful and rude? What a farce. So the only essential item of clothing to have on while riding a motorcycle is a patch.
He was riding along the road in a small built up area, well within the speed limit, he saw the car waiting to turn right on the opposite side of the road. He wasn’t worried, he had seen her and he naturally assumed that she would wait until he was safely past before she turned, she didn’t. She hadn’t seen him. She turned across the road just as he was passing; she struck the side of the bike, his right foot in fact. This caused the bike to waver from side to side, he struggled to bring it under control, but he realised that he was in a no win situation. He can remember everything that happened after that. He remembers hitting the front of the car behind her, he remembers being propelled up the windscreen of the car, going over the top of it, coming off the driver’s side and landing with a thud back in the middle of the road. He remembers lying there in the middle of the road as passers by, the other drivers and people living nearby came to his aid. He remembers thinking, “My arm hurts”, and he pulled it across his chest to keep it safe. He also thought, “My leg hurts too”, he looked down and saw his foot pointing up towards him, he thought, “Ah well, that’s definitely broken”. He remembers all the kind people who came to his aid, the trip in the ambulance to the hospital. He remembers also being in the emergency department, the agony as they took his leathers off, his boots and his jacket. He then recalls how much more bearable it became when they gave him Entinox (strong inhaled painkiller) He laughed with the A&E staff at this, asking if he would be able to play the piano again. He never could before! He doesn’t remember the next day or so as he was in a drug induced haze, but pain free. The next bit he remembers is lying in the hospital bed with his left leg in traction and his left arm heavily plastered. During the time that he didn’t remem
ber he had been ‘under the knife’ and had a metal plate and 6 screws inserted into his arm to hold the splintered bones together, and 3 screws in his left leg to anchor broken bones together there too. He then remembers vividly the next 2 years when he was unable to work, when he was taken back into hospital at one point with suspected Osteomyelitis (infection of the bones) The months and months of painful physiotherapy he had to endure, having to watch his wife go out to work to support them. He recalls what it what was like to have to back into hospital several months after the accident to have the plates and screws removed and all the rehab that followed that. He remembers the accident every single time when he sees the operation scars on his arm and on his leg. But, these are the only scars he has and do you know why? Because he was wearing all the proper safety clothing at the time of the accident, in fact he always did. All of the above is a true story of what happened to my hubby in 1989. I wanted to write an opinion about motorcycle safety clothing because of what happened to my husband and because I know what he would have looked like had he had this accident and was only wearing normal clothes at the time. Just imagine him had all this happened and he wasn’t wearing full leathers, boots etc, hard to imagine? Well I can tell you that he would not have had much skin left on his body. Not a nice thing to imagine is it? If you think I am being a tad melodramatic here then think of what would happen if a motorcyclist came off his bike at high speed and slithered along the road for a short distance……. I want to yell at some of the idiots I see about at this time of year, riding their bikes along, ‘t’ shirts flapping in the wind, trainers on their feet with their ankles exposed. I want to scream at them. “FOR GODS SAKE, WEAR PROTECTIVE CLOTHING” Yes it m
ight be nice to feel the wind rushing at you as you ride along without a care in the world (I thank god for the helmet law at this point too) but would you please just stop and think, how would you feel without your skin? It might be hot to wear proper safe clothing, but not as hot as you would get skidding along leaving bits of your skin on the road… The only ‘visible’ mark my husband had as a result of the actual collision was a small graze to his right foot where the car had hit it. Yes he had several broken bones, but at the time they did not hurt all that much (the human body is a wonder at producing its own painkillers at a time like this) it was the pain and frustration that came later with learning to walk with crutches etc that hurt him the most. Thank god that he did not have to endure many painful skin grafts. But it is not just god that I am thanking really; it is my husband for being sensible enough to know that the correct clothing is ESSENTIAL when riding a bike on the road. I thank him too for still being around to love and care for me,and our sons. The obvious thing is a properly fitting helmet, but then we don’t have to worry about that do we, cos the law says we have to wear a helmet. A full set of all in one leathers is the ideal safe motorcycle clothing but is not always practical so the next best thing is a leather jacket. Leather trousers if at all possible too, if not heavy-duty jeans would be the next best things. Leather clothing is the preferred material of safe motorcycle clothing. it is strong, waterproof and very very durable, as the fact that my husband only had a small graze to his foot shows. That was with leather trousers over the top of heavy duty leather boots. Imagine what it would have looked like had he only been wearing light trousers and trainers? Boots, wear them, NOT trainers. Your feet have absolutely no protection whatsoever in these. Gloves, leather one
s, anyone who has either ridden a motorbike, or been a pillion on one and has been hit in the hand by a wasp/bee at X amount of MPH will know just how bloody painful that is. I guess some of you might be thinking that you can’t afford all this; I say to you, “If you can afford to buy and run a bike then you should make yourselves ‘afford’ all the safety clothing that goes with it” and “Anyway, aren’t you worth protecting, do you value your safety and life so little?” As a result of the accident my husband no longer rides motorbikes on the road, he decided that although he considered himself a sensible ‘biker’ it was just getting too dangerous out there. With motorcycle accidents it is so often not the fault of the biker but that of the car driver who ‘does not see’ the bike, I do find this hard to comprehend. How could anyone not see a bike on the road? But then I am biased as I am now more aware of motorcycles as a direct result of my husband’s accident. He does however partake in trial biking which is an off road sport, along with my youngest son. As soon as we realised our son was showing a talent and a liking for this we got him all the correct riding clothes. Not all of them were brand spanking new to start with, except for the helmet. Never, ever wear a second hand helmet; you don’t know if it hasn’t already been in an accident. But as he has grown we have bought him newer stuff and sold the other outgrown clothing on to other younger members of the trial biking club. See it needn’t be all that expensive? I would like to conclude here in making no apologies if I have painted a gruesome picture of what could happen. If just one motorcyclist reads this, takes notice, and changes his mind, goes out and gets the correct gear then this opinion will have been so worth it. Please I implore you, consider it very
seriously. Many many thanks to you all for reading this op. I am hoping to post it on the Ciao site as well, but have to ask them to add it as a category first. Hats off to DooYoo for already having it here! Cheers. Kazzie.