By Mike Tomas. President Kiwi Indian Motorcycles, Inc.
I had a plan all laid out for this issue’s introduction until I got hit riding my 1945 Chief Coast Guard bike just before Christmas on Van Buren Boulevard, three miles from home. My good friend Jeff Kelderman from Iowa was staying with me so we could attend the ChopperFest show in Ventura. But ChopperFest was postponed due to the fires in Ventura so we decided to ride our Indians to visit with some of our vendors around SoCal and just take in the great riding we have around here in the mountains and hills.
On the third and final day of our ride we were almost back home where we were to enjoy a nice BBQ dinner that Carolyn was cooking up, with friends out from Arizona, Iowa and Texas. I was cruising the speed limit at 50 mph in the center lane of three lanes along Van Buren when I suddenly got hit by a car whose driver had fallen asleep. He came up in the right lane at about 60 mph and suddenly veered left into me at about my rear axle.
I recall I was happily riding along with Jeff in front of me, then all of a sudden a big blank time, then “what the hell?” then sliding along the black top. Apparently I was hurtled into the air and then slid. My brain engaged and told me to pull my body parts into a ball and roll. All this was processed in milliseconds as I went from riding my motorcycle to the element of surprise of what the hell just happened. My brain was telling me to pull in as my hand was burning from the friction from the black top through my gloves.
When I did finally come to a stop I looked up and all the traffic had stopped. Man I’m alive and not run over. My bike went for a long slide on its side and it was revving its guts out. It eventually quit but I was more interested in taking inventory of my body parts. To their utter amazement, Jeff, the paramedics and the firemen just couldn’t believe how well off I was after being hurtled off my bike at 50 mph.
I guess where I’m ending up here is: ride with proper safety gear and forget about the look. Other bikers make fun of me because of my safety gear, which in my case is Olympia. Yeah, it ain’t the cool biker look but I’m into safety and function before looking cool. It’s got plenty of armor padding in the right places and it certainly did its job well, when I needed it most.
I never go riding without a full face or modular helmet, armor jacket (armor pants optional) and good gloves. Yes, even when it’s 120 degrees out, I still wear them.
I don’t know why I got off this time with so little bodily damage, maybe it was my late son Ross looking over me. Thanks Ross. I miss you, son.
