Ok. An actual close call.


My brother and I head out for a ride. We're traveling at about the speed limit (45 mph) as we're still well in town, he's in front of me on a little 2009 Kawi 250 sport bike and I'm on a 1972 konged CB750. As we approach the only major intersection in town, we hear sirens and see a fire truck appear from the left and it's hauling ass (not Rake). We're riding pretty close together due to traffic and we're both close enough to the intersection to where we need to make the decision to goose it and roll through, or try and stop. I waited to see what my brother was going to do, but I knew that I wouldnt be able to stop. He hesitates and then locks up both wheels at about the same time that I decided to roll on the throttle. I saw the smoke from his wheels and felt his handlebar tap mine as I barely cut around him. When he locked up his brakes, he slid into the center of the lane, I barely made it past him. If I had hit him any more, I think I would have ended up on my back, in the middle of the intersection right in front of that fire truck. And could have taken him with me.

That experience firmly imbedded the reality that you only have a certain degree of control over what happens to you. Take some good precautions and make sure you know how to ride the shit out of your bike... For when you need to.

Float like a buttafly, sting like a bee