hppants
Well-known member
Yep Mac - she is a good one. Why any woman would put up with my crap for 31 years defies logic. Yours was a great one. I shall never forget that.
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Riding a motorcycle is highly risky, right?
- Thread starter Fred W
- Start date
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Uncle Hud
Just another blob of protoplasm using up your oxyg
Most of us here are even farther from the statistical mean because we're more experienced, more mature (well, kinda), ride well-maintained bikes, understand the limits of our bodies and our machines, yadda, yadda, yadda ....
In other words, we're not 20-somethings on an R1, nor are we 50-somethings on a Sportster in a midlife crisis with a .12 Blood Alcohol Level. <knocks on wood>
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Cookie
Well-known member
I agree with MEM and Fred on this subject. Everything in life is dangerous. No one gets out alive. I've done my share of dodging death. Had stage 4 cancer six years ago. In fact, I had three bikes in the garage at the time, but bought my first FJR three weeks after my first chemo treatment. I told my wife it would be easy to sell if things didn't go well. The FJR was the best therapy I had dealing with the chemo. I even rode to some of my treatments and most of my follow up scans.
16 months ago I survived a really bad case of pulmonary embolism. I'm still on blood thinners, but I'm riding. Half of the team of doctors told me to quit riding. It was far too risky. Of course, I stuck with my approach to healing. I bought another FJR - a 2014 ES, last October. Why wait. You never know when your time is up. Enjoy life to the fullest while you can. You're dead a long time.
I found a quote online recently that was right to the point. "Motorcycling is not inherently dangerous. It is, however extremely unforgiving of inattention, ignorance, incompetence or stupidity" - Author Unknown. Pretty sure that author was a rider.
Screw your head on before you get in the saddle, but don't quit riding. Live each day, tomorrow may not come.
16 months ago I survived a really bad case of pulmonary embolism. I'm still on blood thinners, but I'm riding. Half of the team of doctors told me to quit riding. It was far too risky. Of course, I stuck with my approach to healing. I bought another FJR - a 2014 ES, last October. Why wait. You never know when your time is up. Enjoy life to the fullest while you can. You're dead a long time.
I found a quote online recently that was right to the point. "Motorcycling is not inherently dangerous. It is, however extremely unforgiving of inattention, ignorance, incompetence or stupidity" - Author Unknown. Pretty sure that author was a rider.
Screw your head on before you get in the saddle, but don't quit riding. Live each day, tomorrow may not come.
The following article is from a recent advice column in the Washington Post. When I first saw the topic I assumed the worst. That the advisor would heartily agree that motorcycling is a crazy dangerous activity with only morons as participants. I was wonderfully surprised and pleased by the straightforward and philosophical reply.
-------------------------------
Carolyn Hax: Life is about the journey. He chooses to take it on a motorcycle.
by Carolyn Hax April 5 Email the author
Dear Carolyn: I'm terrified about my boyfriend's hobby: riding motorcycles. We've been together two years and in that time he has crashed twice, the last time totaling his bike. Thankfully, both times he only had minor injuries.
However, he is now looking to buy ANOTHER bike, and every time I imagine him on a motorcycle I just see myself at his funeral. I want to be supportive because I know he loves it, but it causes me so much anxiety.
What can I do? I've talked to him about it, but he gets upset because he feels like I'm not supportive. He doesn't seem to see the risks. He thinks he's immortal. I don't know what to do.
— K.
K: Embrace mortality. That’s what you do.
Given your boyfriend’s hobby and history, I suggest soon.
I am not being facetious. At all. In fact, if I thought it would help, I’d close every answer with this: “And oh by the way, if you’re not comfortable yet with the idea of death, then I suggest you work on it.”
There is no permanence. If collecting kitten posters were your boyfriend’s hobby, then the odds would tilt more toward his achieving old age, and — this is the real thing, I believe — you’d be better able to trick yourself into a sense of certainty. Sun will rise, summer will come, boyfriend will return from a run to buy milk.
But loving someone is a guarantee of heartbreak. Well, there is one loophole: when you die first. So if you’re building your happy on a belief that it’s possible for no bad things to happen, and if your happy can be derailed by having to stand closer to reality than your heart and imagination want you to, then please spend less time trying to rein in your boyfriend and more on your emotional resilience.
It’s hard. No one (healthy) wants pain. The only way many of us can face the idea of loss is through inevitability — when a loved one’s illness, injury or death forces us to.
But it needn’t be that way. Our minds are powerful things, and when we stop telling them life will be good when everything lines up just right, and tell them instead that life is good when we enjoy what we have while we have it — with conviction, with joy, with a release of strict expectations — our minds start to believe it.
One mantra to retrain your mind toward strength: “I can’t stop this, change this, prevent this. I can only manage it when it happens.” And when you doubt your ability to manage, look around. The human spirit has withstood war, famine, displacement, genocide, child mortality rates that would seem unendurable had they not been, in fact, endured. It has withstood bikers, too — who make it home, and who don’t.
Grief shatters. Most people mend and love again.
Loving a risk-seeker offers two choices: Embrace the risk or torture you both by fighting it.
Well, three: or break up if you don’t want this life.
-------------------------------
Carolyn Hax: Life is about the journey. He chooses to take it on a motorcycle.
by Carolyn Hax April 5 Email the author
Dear Carolyn: I'm terrified about my boyfriend's hobby: riding motorcycles. We've been together two years and in that time he has crashed twice, the last time totaling his bike. Thankfully, both times he only had minor injuries.
However, he is now looking to buy ANOTHER bike, and every time I imagine him on a motorcycle I just see myself at his funeral. I want to be supportive because I know he loves it, but it causes me so much anxiety.
What can I do? I've talked to him about it, but he gets upset because he feels like I'm not supportive. He doesn't seem to see the risks. He thinks he's immortal. I don't know what to do.
— K.
K: Embrace mortality. That’s what you do.
Given your boyfriend’s hobby and history, I suggest soon.
I am not being facetious. At all. In fact, if I thought it would help, I’d close every answer with this: “And oh by the way, if you’re not comfortable yet with the idea of death, then I suggest you work on it.”
There is no permanence. If collecting kitten posters were your boyfriend’s hobby, then the odds would tilt more toward his achieving old age, and — this is the real thing, I believe — you’d be better able to trick yourself into a sense of certainty. Sun will rise, summer will come, boyfriend will return from a run to buy milk.
But loving someone is a guarantee of heartbreak. Well, there is one loophole: when you die first. So if you’re building your happy on a belief that it’s possible for no bad things to happen, and if your happy can be derailed by having to stand closer to reality than your heart and imagination want you to, then please spend less time trying to rein in your boyfriend and more on your emotional resilience.
It’s hard. No one (healthy) wants pain. The only way many of us can face the idea of loss is through inevitability — when a loved one’s illness, injury or death forces us to.
But it needn’t be that way. Our minds are powerful things, and when we stop telling them life will be good when everything lines up just right, and tell them instead that life is good when we enjoy what we have while we have it — with conviction, with joy, with a release of strict expectations — our minds start to believe it.
One mantra to retrain your mind toward strength: “I can’t stop this, change this, prevent this. I can only manage it when it happens.” And when you doubt your ability to manage, look around. The human spirit has withstood war, famine, displacement, genocide, child mortality rates that would seem unendurable had they not been, in fact, endured. It has withstood bikers, too — who make it home, and who don’t.
Grief shatters. Most people mend and love again.
Loving a risk-seeker offers two choices: Embrace the risk or torture you both by fighting it.
Well, three: or break up if you don’t want this life.
sullivan
Well-known member
Going to print the statistics and keep in my wallet!
PhilJet09
Nondescript FJR Hierarchy Displayed
If I didn’t ride I’d be way more susceptible to a lot of those other things.
