PERSPECTIVES

PERSPECTIVES Riding with Lady Luck

BY MITCH BOEHM

Igot lucky last month… dodged a bullet, really. I fell while skiing with my son and badly dislocated my shoulder, and I have to say, the pain during that hour from crash to clinic was worse than any I’ve endured. And between a dozen broken bones, five knee surgeries and the chest tube I got after blowing up a handful of ribs and puncturing a lung on my CR480 vintage bike, I’ve endured a bit.

It was so bad that, when it happened, and during the bumpy toboggan ride to the clinic (shiver the thought), I was absolutely positive I’d literally destroyed my shoulder. I guess that’s what happens when the humerus (the big bone between your elbow and shoulder) gets evicted from its warm and cozy rotator-cuff home to the tune of two inches.

Sitting (and whimpering) in the clinic after X-rays (all while pleading for a morphine shot) I was thinking surgery and months of rehab — and, worse, no spring skiing or riding for a while. Luckily it was just a dislocation, and while I did tear my Labrum and badly traumatize the joint, and then had to endure the whole “popping it back into place” thing (omg, don’t even ask), the shoulder is better a month later, enough so that I’ve been able to ski and ride my ZRX1200R in the last few days.

The whole experience got me thinking yesterday while riding the ZRX up Little Cottonwood Canyon how lucky I was. And that led, of course, to thoughts of how lucky I’ve been at various times in my motorcycling career — and how luck (or a lack of it) figures into our lives.

One of my most vivid luck-outs happened at Willow Springs during one of the WERA 24-Hour endurance races I participated in. After putting the team together for the American Honda RC30 effort and telling everyone involved in the weeks leading up to the race that the one thing we could not do was crash (cuz you gotta be there at the end to have a chance of winning, and as a riding member of the Vance & Hines endurance team we’d won the previous three WERA 24-hour races using that exact strategy), I lost the front in 130-mph turn eight and figured I’d soon be dead — as cartwheeling through sand and sagebrush at over 100 mph is never good for bodily integrity.

Somehow, though, I saved it, the bike popping back up on two wheels after scraping along the tarmac long and hard enough to badly scar the leather on my boot upper and the outer knee area of my suit. The reason for the mishap was a badly worn front slick thanks to the efforts of the late Randy Renfrow and 250GP champ Rich Oliver, who did stints on the bike right before I did. Why the crew didn’t change the tire is still a mystery, but to this day I have no idea why the bike popped back up. I often joke that the adrenaline jolt (or the butt-cheek flex) from losing the front at that speed forced my knee into the ground hard enough to right the bike, but whatever made it happen I’m pretty happy about it, as was my dad, who was watching from the grandstand.

Another close call happened on a busy LA freeway during a group ride I was leading. An econobox right in front of me blew a rear tire at about 80 mph and immediately spun and began flipping, with other cars in the vicinity (most of them in close

After my recent ski accident and dislocated shoulder I’m feeling darn lucky to be riding again.

proximity to our group) taking all sorts of evasive maneuvers. Somehow, we all got stopped before being crushed, but man…that was scary.

Another happened on a mostly empty backroad as I came upon a car (or cars) I deemed safe to pass. Looking into the morning sunlight I saw what I thought was one of the cars passing the other and pulled out into the oncoming lane to follow and do the same thing. Problem was, the car I thought was passing the other car was actually coming right at me from the opposite direction, which I didn’t realize with all the morning glare. I swerved at the very last minute (the combined closing speed was probably 100 mph) and somehow missed being disintegrated on the spot. The adrenaline nearly made me throw up.

“Riding with Lady Luck…” — as Tom Waits wrote in ’Ol 55 — is a great thing, but you sure can’t rely on it. So be safe out there!

Mitch Boehm is the editorial director of the AMA

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