Date: Wed, 1 Oct 1997 13:56:11 -0400 (EDT) From: gayathri To: Multiple recipients of list Subject: oh, do be careful... Disclaimer: this is heavy shit. Sunday afternoon, while riding the Angeles Crest Highway, past Newcomb's Ranch, my friend, fellow LABiker, future racing pit partner - Yves Bolomet - was killed in an accident when a Caddy pulled out from a turnout right in front of him. The police report said he hadnt had a chance to even grab his brakes. Yves, known affectionately as King of the Lane Splitters, was someone quite beloved by our whole group. He was one of the best street riders I've ever met - taking his p.o.s EX500 and not only keeping up with the boys on the big sportbikes, but showing them a thing or two about speed, grace, and control. He'd just recently gotten into racing, and was regaling us with stories about how much fun he was having on the track and how it was slowing him down on the street. Sunday morning, I went up the Angeles Crest highway, and ran into a couple of friends at Newcomb's Ranch - including Yves. We all had breakfast together, and Yves was teasing me by wearing his Hell's Buddha's tshirt - which I loved. "I wore it just for you, darlin'" he said, waving his unfiltered camel at me. I laughed. That's the last thing I remember about him, and it makes me smile now to think about it. There was some big vendor event going on and while the rest of the group decided to head up the hill, I decided to come down. It was quite possibly the worst ride down the hill that I've had all summer - the road was crowded with sport bikers insisting on dragging knees around each of the turns, and passing me in ways that were making me rather unhappy (around a blind turn over the double yellow, while I 'm practicing late apexing). I saw the fire trucks and the ambulances going up, and as angry as I was at the squids, I said to myself as I often do, "dont let anyone be hurt," and continued on down the hill to head to work. I found out the next day that the ambulances was for my friend. One of the other LABikers works at JPL with me, came to my office to tell me, and we cried together. What makes this worse, is that this is the second accident in the past four months for our group where someone has died. Over Memorial Day weekend, I was on a ride past Newcomb's Ranch, when a fairly new rider hit a tar patch, lost control of her bike and low sided - she was run over by a truck coming down the hill and was killed instantly. I havent been able to really talk about it to many people, because I was there and it still hurts. The reaction on the list when they heard only that an asian woman on riding her own motorcycle was run over by a truck and killed made me realize already how many friends I had in los angeles - they originally thought it had been Gayathri. It didnt make the hurt any less that I had met her only that morning and my last memory of her was her smile and her joy at meeting another babe to go riding with. In four months we lost one of our least experienced riders and one of our most... the driver of the caddy is being charged with vehicular manslaughter as of this writing, since at least one bike had passed him before Yves came up on the turnout. I would never give up riding. I can't. Both of these accidents taught me how ephemeral life really is - how quickly we can lose someone we love, care about, know - and it just renews my faith in knowing that I have to live life as if each day is my last, that each moment with each person that I care about is precious. Everytime I get on my bike, I know I could get hurt. And its just as likely everytime I allow someone else to drive me in a car. Or when I go down a ski slope, or walk across the street. I know two things - I was born and that someday, I will die - I know those, bone deep - and all that matters in between is how I live my life, the people I touch, the experiences and memories I have and leave behind. Like most of us, I do my best to be as careful as I possibly can. I'm a good rider, and I'm learning to be better. Like skiing, rock climbing, or scuba diving - all dangerous sports - one can minimize the risks, but one can't ever take them all away, nor would I want to... Jack London, Man's Purpose is to live, not exist. That's what I come back to - I love riding, I love my motorcycle, I love the way it feels when things go right - when the bike disappears and its you and the road and the universe - its like great sex, or a great day of skiing - those perfect runs - and in the end, that's why _I_ keep doing it. Do be careful out there - I miss Yves so much. Gayathri ------------------------------------------------------------------------ gayathri@world.std.com http://zx.labiker.org/yves/ http://curves.labiker.org/yves.html