Fraternity of Riders

Sorry, I know it's been way too long. My riding lately has been nothing but to and from work, which is nice, but not particularly prone to interesting writing. Anyway, the other day, while cruising north on I44, I noticed cars ahead of me braking and swerving slightly. I started to brake as well, when I saw the large red Harley cruiser on it's side in the left hand lane. It took me another moment, while still slowing to a stop, to notice the rider, getting up off the ground on the left shoulder, and the dog, not getting up from the left shoulder. As I approached the bike, I pulled on to the shoulder myself, and asked the rider if he was alright. It was pretty obvious that he had injured his left wrist and arm. I'm pretty sure they were broken. He asked me to help him remove his helmet, which I did. I then called 911, to report the accident.

A fire truck pulled up within a minute or two, while I tried to lift his bike and roll it on to the shoulder. As I was wedging myself under the bike to get some leverage on it, another rider pulled over to help me get the bike out of the road. By this point, the firemen had sat the accident victim down and were tending to his wounds. His left arm was twisted around, and he didn't seem to be able to lift his shoulder. He had some considerable road rash along his right side, particularly on the palm of his right hand. The helmet I removed earlier was scratched up pretty good, and probably saved his life. It was, however, the only protective gear he had on. I don't think his t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers did much for him at all.

After getting his bike onto the shoulder, it appeared that the firemen had everything under control, and I could hear an ambulance siren near by. The other rider and I decided to take our leave. The cars, however, now driving bumper to bumper because of all the sudden braking, had no intention of letting either of us back into the slow moving traffic. It took another rider to slow down and hold traffic at bay in order for us to merge back on. I gave him the standard two-fingered salute as I merged in to the gap he created.

The reason I wanted to share this story is to express the bond that exists between riders. When I called 911, I was surprised to find out that I was the first one to call. None of the cagers in front of me had bothered. No cars stopped to help either. They only swerved around the accident and drove on. It took riders to call 911, riders to clear the crashed harley out of the rode, and finally, it took riders to let us back on to the road. I'd like to think that, in a crisis situation, this desire to help would exist for all humans. The fact is, it doesn't. Riders help riders because they somehow feel connected to eachother, only because we all choose to ride. It could have been me on the side of the road, and I'd hope someone would pull over to help me as well. Unfortunatly, I wouldn't expect most cagers to stop. The nature of being in a cage means that you focus on your destination only, and disconnect yourself from everything in between, even when someone else may need your help.