STEVEN BOWMAN
As a young Soldier, I was not someone you would naturally point out as the “next accident.” I did what I was supposed to do and stayed out of trouble. I wasn’t a rebel. I also think I used common sense, even as a teenager, so I wasn’t prone to spontaneity and recklessness. This mindset suited me well as a young motorcyclist. I planned ahead, wore the proper clothing and protective equipment and enjoyed cruising instead of racing.
On this particular night, while stationed at Fort Monmouth, New Jersey, I went to meet some friends at a local bar to hear a new band. We’d looked forward to this night all week and made plans to stay at the beach and make a weekend of it. While my friends had headed out early in the afternoon to start partying, I decided I was going to enjoy one of the first riding days of the year with a cruise along the beach. I was the last of our group to arrive.
The band’s first set was awesome and we were all having a good time — with one exception. One of the guys with us was getting out of hand. He wasn’t out-of-control drunk, but he was being obnoxious and embarrassing. When someone in our group said something to him, he settled down for a little while. By the end of the second set, though, things were worse and the whole bar was now watching this guy. When someone from another table complained, that was the final straw.
After the confrontation, our friend said he just wanted to skip the beach and head back to the barracks. I really didn’t want to leave and miss the band’s last set, but I needed to take care of my buddy. Plus, I was sober, so I agreed to take him back and meet up with the rest of the group later at the beach.
I decided to take the road that ran along the water to the back gate. Despite near-perfect weather conditions, we didn’t talk on the drive back. We were both irritated — not at each other, but at the situation. No matter, it was a good drive and really not that big of an inconvenience. In fact, I realized I was going to get to the beach before the rest of the group, which would give me a chance to do a recon and have a drink or two before they arrived. I might even get an early shot at finding a date.
In that moment, I was lost in my mind, thinking about the beach. In the next, I was sliding down the road behind my bike as it rained sparks around me from the headers scraping the pavement. Just like I was lost in my thoughts, my passenger also got lost in his … and fell asleep. The warm night, peacefulness of cruising along the shore, my overnight bag to lean back against, alcohol and lack of distraction from me had lulled him to sleep.
As I approached the post’s rear gate, I entered into the first of two 90 degree turns. Decelerating (maybe 25-30 mph) into the first turn, my slumbering buddy started to slide off the bike on the inside of the turn. Simultaneously, we both tried to correct. I tried increasing my braking and standing the bike up straighter to counter his shifting weight; he grabbed my jacket and pulled in an attempt to re-right himself. The resultant force of both of us correcting to the high side flipped us over to the outside of the turn and down to the pavement.
This was my introduction to the concept of situational awareness and how the lack thereof can lead to an accident. At least that is what I attributed to causing this accident. I did everything I was supposed to do. Proper clothing, helmets, route selection, obeying the speed limit, sober — I did it all right. Fortunately, because we followed the rules, we both walked away from this accident with just scuffs and scrapes. I learned, however, that just following the rules doesn’t insulate you from accidents. One momentary lapse in situational awareness at a critical moment is all it takes.