This is my story, published as a personal column in the Aug. 2014 Northern Rockies Rider. Sorry if it's deemed a long read...
The 'buddy system': break the rules, pay the price
By Cole Boehler
Editor and Publisher
Northern Rockies Rider
When riding with more than one bike, we invoke "The Buddy System."
When we have failed to do this, inevitably calamity strikes.
In essence, it goes like this: You keep track of the rider behind you. When you don't see their headlight in your mirrors (ride with the high beam), you slow down until you do. If you still don't see the headlight, you stop and wait until you do. If you still don't see it, you turn around and go back to investigate.
In this way, when a bike is not within sight, eventually the whole string will come to a halt and the problem can be resolved without the group breaking up and becoming separated.
We left Friday morning for a three-day, 1,000-mile tour in mid June. I'd ridden many times with these riders and did not do "The Buddy System Speech." They'd all heard it before; no need to repeat it, right?
Friday went well and another rider joined our group that evening, bringing the total to five bikes and eight people.
We left Libby, Mont., Saturday morning and had breakfast in remote Yaak. We had a ball running the remainder of the road down to its intersection with the FDR Highway which runs along the west shore of Lake Koocanusa.
There a series of mistakes began to unfold and compound.
Back at breakfast, my sister heard me tell the new rider that we often made crossing the Koocanusa Bridge a short drag race, then we take a break on the other end. Ha, ha. However, we had our young bachelor rider in the lead when we hit the FDR Highway and he stopped at the junction, so we took an impromptu break there; no need to then break at the bridge as usual.
This constituted a change of plans which was not iterated for everyone’s benefit. That was mistake number one and I owned it.
As we remounted and prepared to run the twisty, technical west shore, I checked my mirrors to make sure all were saddled and ready to roll, including passengers. All pulled out and away we went.
We soon encountered a couple of slow sight seers so dispatched them with a quick pass. I could see at least three headlights behind me (bikes 2 though 4) and figured the fifth bike would also soon pass the slow vehicle. Besides, rider number 4 would be watching out for rider number 5, I believed.
The west shore is virtually all curves. As I rounded corners I could count one...two...and sometimes three other headlights as we broke around the next curve, where I would temporarily lose sight of the trailing riders again. All the while I believed the fifth bike was back there and the fourth bike was keeping track of it.
When we stopped at the dam overlook for a rest, bikes number 2, then 3, then 4 also pulled in. Bike 5 did not arrive. After five minutes, I realized this was no photo or pee-stop delay.
Now we started to worry. The driver of the missing bike has a history of serious heart trouble. At this point another rider reported our missing rider had complained he wasn't feeling well at breakfast ... The alarms really started to clang!
We became somewhat paralyzed by indecision. What to do? The Fear began to rise.
A driver error (or instantaneous acute medical event) in any of these curves, some marked down to 20 MPH, could mean a disastrous crash into a cliff face or ride through the air over one, or a moto-cross rip through the timber and thick undergrowth.
There was no cell telephone service in this remote country. We could not send or receive calls or messages. Fuel range was also becoming a factor.
One rider headed five miles further down our route in case the missing rider and his passenger had somehow come down the east shore of the lake and was waiting at the junction at the Fisher River Road, which was next on our itinerary. He returned, shaking his head. He'd even chased down another bike that had come down the east shore to ask questions.
Next, two other riders headed back up the west shore and soon encountered in a turnout the car we had passed earlier. That driver assured them he had been passed by four bikes, not five. Okay, that info filled in a couple of blanks.
I rode down the remainder of the west shore, then headed west to where I could get a land line. I called the numbers for both the rider and the passenger aboard missing bike number 5. No connection so I left what must have been (in hindsight) exasperated and frustrated messages on their voice mails. Then back I went to rejoin the remainder of our group.
At this point it was decided two of us would head into Libby to try to establish cell contact...and also to speak with law enforcement. Two other riders headed back up the west shore in search of the missing bike and riders. We now had two groups of riders heading in opposite directions with no idea where the last bike was.
As we pulled into Libby, we needed gas. As I removed my helmet, my phone was ringing. It was...the missing rider.
What?!
Like an *******, I started out my side of the conversation with something like, "Where the hell are you! (They were in Whitefish! They had crossed the Koocanusa Bridge.) What in the world are you doing there? How the hell did this happen! We're going to have a long talk about this because I'm not ever going though this ever again!" What a jerk.
See, I was very afraid (the missing riders are immediate family), and that I had to needlessly experience such awful fear for almost two hours made me angry. I was also angry because I knew this was all avoidable.
But as I settled down and began to do the scenario deconstruction, I could see the whole series of compounding mistakes unfold...and several of them were mine and were serious breaches of group-ride protocols.
Breach #1 - Do the buddy system speech, each and every time, no exceptions!
Breach #2 - Abide unfailingly by the buddy system principles.
Breach #3 - After every break, make sure every rider knows precisely what the next leg will be.
Breach #4 - If improvisation occurs (not a bad thing), refer to Breach #3.
Breach #5 - The lead rider needs to periodically personally verify that all the bikes are still in the group.
The Corollary to the Buddy System: If, despite all best efforts, a separation does occur, the separated rider needs to return to the place where he last saw his companions, then stay put until they return.
Breach #6 - If you get separated without means of communication, do not continue down the road toward the day's destination. See "The Corollary!"
This was not the first time we have had the group come apart. At least two other times the result was hours of dreadful terror and thoughts like, "What am I going to tell his mother?" or "What am I going to tell her kids?"
Motorcycles are dangerous, and riding them in remote country on challenging roads in a spirited way increases the risk. We are willing to accept the risk, but there is no need to have to live with the ultimate Fear because of sloppy observance of protocols.
We disdain "rules" as much as the next independent lone-wolf. But if it is going to be a group ride, some measure of orderly conduct must be introduced and adhered to.
Ultimately, all riders reached areas with cell service, messages were exchanged and we agreed to meet at our planned evening's destination...by three different routes! Instead of reproach, we greeted each other with hugs and a few tears; The Fear had morphed to Relief.
But the incident seriously detracted from what otherwise should have been a glorious day of touring exceptional country and roads with favorite companions.
After 35 years of riding, I'm still learning the lessons, sometimes more often than I should have to.
