Читать книгу Proficient Motorcycling - David L. Hough - Страница 9

It’s a sunny Sunday morning in the Colorado mountains. Perfect weather. Light traffic. The pavement is clean and dry. Motoring eastbound through the scenic Boulder canyon, Norman and Christine are enjoying the ride and the view. Both riders are wearing protective gear, including high-quality full-coverage helmets. Norman is paying attention to the curves, planning good cornering lines, and keeping his Suzuki well in control.

Westbound, four motorcyclists on fast sportbikes are dicing with each other, enjoying their race-bred machines, the excellent road conditions, and the rush of friendly competition at the spirited pace, albeit with little regard for speed limits or double yellow lines. At the moment, Mark is slightly more willing than the others to jack up the risks, and his Honda is pulling ahead of the pack.

Just east of Hurricane Hill, Norman slows the Suzuki for the sharp blind turn through the rocks and leans the bike over into a nice curving arc that should kiss the centerline at his apex. At the same instant, Mark carves into the same turn westbound on his Honda. Mark realizes too late that the curve through the rocks is tighter than he had assumed. He tries to lean the Honda more, but he can’t prevent the bike from drifting wide across the double yellow lines, right into the path of the approaching Suzuki.

Frantically, Norman shoves the grips toward the right to swerve the Suzuki away from a 120-mph head-on collision. Mark frantically tries to get the Honda turned, but the tires lose traction, and the bike lowsides in a shower of sparks and plastic. The sliding Honda clips the Suzuki just hard enough to send it cartwheeling into the rocks. Mark tumbles to a stop, bleeding profusely but alive. A second later, Mark’s buddies carve around the corner and spin through the mess of wadded-up bikes and bodies. Norman dies instantly, his helmeted head ripped from his body. Norman’s wife, Christine, dies an hour later at the hospital. Mark and his buddies all survive.

This is a true story, and I’m not relating it just to gross you out. Similar crashes occur over and over again on various twisty highways across America that are popular with weekend motorcyclists. The term canyon racing comes from California, where the twisty roads leading up the canyons are the playgrounds of aggressive motorcyclists. The East Coast has its canyon roads, too, including the famously twisty road through Deals Gap between North Carolina and Tennessee, known by motorcyclists as The Dragon.