Risk Management Magazine

As a brigade sport bike and senior battalion motorcycle mentor, dozens of Soldiers have asked me for advice about becoming a motorcyclist. Of these, one Soldier in particular stands out.

I was about 500 feet from the exit for Fort Belvoir, riding in the right lane on a poorly lit section of the road. I was almost home free when I suddenly saw a gray mass in front of me. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to know what it wanted to do.

There wasn’t much I could’ve done to prevent that ball from hitting me. I didn’t see the little rise in the field that lofted the ball into my face. However, while I couldn’t have predicted what happened, I could’ve protected my eyes.