CAPT. ANDREW SIDWELL
It was a bright, sunny Arizona day near Fort Huachuca as my friend and I headed out to enjoy a ride on our motorcycles. Just three days earlier, I had purchased a new 1997 Suzuki TL1000S. This blood-red beast showed just 63 miles on the odometer as I turned south off Fry Boulevard onto State Highway 92.
Including turning lanes, there were three lanes of traffic in each direction. This meant motorists wanting to cross the street to a shopping center on the other side had to cross six lanes of traffic. With several shopping centers on either side of the road, traffic was thick as people turned into or exited them. My riding partner decided traffic was moving too slowly and zipped down the centerline between cars. His Suzuki Katana 750 screamed like a banshee as he accelerated. I thought about following him but decided to do the right thing and wait. I figured I could catch up later.
As I was riding, a car darted out of a shopping center on the left side of the road, crossing three lanes and the median. The driver was a 17-year-old girl who didn’t have a license and had “borrowed” her parent’s car while they were out of town. She’d been hurrying to get through a small gap in traffic and hit me going full tilt — never even touching the brakes.
I felt the crushing impact as her bumper smashed my left foot and ankle. The bike went sideways, throwing me forward onto the road, where I bounced along until I went head-first into the car in front of me. My helmet bounced off the back bumper just before I came to rest with my head lodged in the car’s left-rear wheel well.
I grabbed my helmet, pulled my head out and then slid from beneath the car. The first thing I saw was my beautiful new motorcycle lying on its side several yards away, fluids draining and the exhaust pipe ripped off. I tried to stand but collapsed, suddenly becoming aware of the excruciating pain in my crushed left foot and ankle. I focused on not going into shock while trying to restrain the urge to strangle the driver who just ran me down. Thankfully, two off-duty emergency medical technicians were nearby and came over to treat me while I waited for the ambulance.
All I could think about — aside from the pain and loss of my new bike — was how could this have happened? I was wearing all the proper personal protective equipment, had been riding responsibly and was an experienced rider. I had attended Motorcycle Safety Foundation training. Having done everything I was supposed to do as a rider, how could I have been involved in something like this? The answer is quite simple — this accident could have happened to anyone.
The bottom line is no matter how prepared or experienced we riders are, we are still at the mercy of car drivers, the weather, road conditions and other events beyond our control. That’s not to say safety should be disregarded; just the opposite. Preparation is the one thing you can always do to increase your chances of survival. Had I been unprepared by deciding not to wear a helmet, I could have been killed. In fact, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration estimates helmets saved nearly 1,700 motorcyclists’ lives in 2012, and 781 more lives could have been saved if all riders had worn helmets. According to NHTSA, helmets are about 37 percent effective in reducing motorcycle rider fatalities (41 percent for passengers).
Beyond helmets, Army Regulation 385-10 requires Soldiers wear additional PPE, including over-the-ankle shoes or boots, a long-sleeved shirt or jacket, gloves, eye protection and a reflective vest or belt. This equipment is to be worn at all times when operating a motorcycle, both on and off post. I had on all of these when my accident occurred. Aside from the reflective belt, I can honestly say they reduced the seriousness of my injuries, according to the emergency room doctor who initially treated me. Ride safe!