Personal Narrative- Monocross Motorcycle Ride

Personal Narrative- Monocross Motorcycle Ride

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Personal Narrative- Monocross Motorcycle Ride


As my flesh started to be spread across the pavement, dirt, and gravel, I thought to myself "Why, why did I ride today?" I wish I could have thought of a better way to get home that day. It had been raining that afternoon and the thought had crossed my mind not to ride home, but I didn't want to leave my bike at school.

The day started out like any other day, except for one difference, I decided to ride my motorcycle to school. I woke up that morning and saw it was a beautiful, bright and sunny day, so I thought, "What a perfect time to ride my bike to school." I did my regular morning routine as usual. As I was going through my closet I decided to wear shorts, a t-shirt and a vest instead of a coat, because it was such a bright and sunny day. When I went outside I heard the birds chirping and this dog barking in the RV Park. It had to be one of the most beautiful mornings I had ever seen. The sun was shinning down on me making my cold skin warm right up. After I had gotten done looking at all the beautiful colors on the trees I started my motorcycle. It started just fine and sounded like a lion giving his morning roar. I put on my helmet and started out for school. This was only my second time, driving a motorcycle on public roads, and, since it was my second time, I decided to take the back roads to school. Riding to school on a monocross motorcycle is different from anything else. Monocrosses are a mix between a street bike and a dirt bike. They have the power to climb hills, but they also have a mirror, turning lights, license plate, and other things to make it street legal.

The morning ride to school went great. The bike was running perfectly and cornered well. While I was riding to school, I got the feeling like I was flying. When I started into a corner I would slow way down. Then, when I knew I could shoot out of it, I would twist the throttle as far back as it would go and would power out of the corners. When I was powering out of the corners, the engine would whine like it was screaming for me to let go.

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The wind was blowing so hard against my face, my eyes began to water. They were tears of pure enjoyment. I loved being able to ride on the road where I could race around cars and see how fast my bike could go. Riding to school was the funnest thing I have done on a motorcycle.

At lunchtime I told Derek I would take him for a ride on my motorcycle. He wanted to go down to the fair grounds so he could have a smoke. I could hardly see on the way down because I had forgotten my glasses. After we got there I thought about what the DMV guy had said. He told me never to ride without pants, glasses, a coat and a helmet. It was then I thought I should have brought some pants and a good coat, but I figured nothing would happen if I didn't wear them just this once.

After a full day of school I went to football practice. Practice was going along as normal until a sudden thunderstorm hit, and it started pouring rain. There was lightning and big balls of hail. This was the worst thirty-minute storm I had ever seen. The big balls of hail were coming down so hard. I was hoping they wouldn't knock my bike over and I was hoping they would cancel practice because every hail ball that hit me hurt, bad. Luckily they brought practice into the weight room to get us out of the storm. The coaches told everyone since practice was cut short we should do a quick little workout then we could go. After doing a couple of core lifts like bench and incline I went outside to see if the weather had changed, and sure enough, it had. I decided I probably had little time to get home before it started raining again, so without thinking of the consequences I jumped on my bike, put on my helmet and backpack, and started for home.

Everything was going just fine until I started turning a sharp corner, which I had made easily that morning. This time something was different. Although I could see my wheels spinning, it felt like I wasn't even moving or turning. I started to get really scared that I wasn't going to make the corner. Then the bike started to turn sideways, and ,no matter how hard I fought, I couldn't keep the bike upright. Then I knew I had no control and all my hope of recovering dropped out of my mind. The water had kept my tires from staying gripped to the road when I had started to turn. One of the many thoughts that was running through my head were of the things I had done in my life, like shooting my guns, playing with my dog, or cleaning my truck. Would I ever be able to do them again? I thought about what people would do or say about me after I was gone.

While everything was in slow motion, I had time to think about another thing, what I was going to tell my parents if I lived, and how they were going to react to me crashing my motorcycle the second day after receiving my license. The bike was replaceable, but my life was not. They'd probably not want me to ride again. Then I came back to reality and knew I had to survive this. By this time, the bike was sliding across the road. It seemed to be happening in slow motion.

After smacking my head on the road, I started to feel a little bit of pain in my lower leg. I couldn't tell, but it looked like there were little pieces of white flesh on the road behind me as I slid. The pain in my lower leg went away pretty fast; but I had a pretty good headache through the rest of the ordeal.

My bike and I slid across the gravel and dirt on the side of the road and then finally stopped after hitting the other side of the ditch. The bike was still running when I got off. I was amazed it was still running after going through all that. So after I thought leaving it running might do more damage to it then help it, I had to shut off the bike. After I did that, I took off my glasses, helmet, and backpack. My glasses were intact, my helmet was scratched pretty badly, and my backpack was destroyed. There were pieces of backpack, shoe, and white flesh spread across the road. After I saw flesh on the road, I then looked down at my leg and noticed I was bleeding really badly. I felt blood running down my arm too. After seeing my leg I thought that I had tore every piece of flesh off of my leg. When I looked at my arm, there was a gash about 14 inch deep. "My arm definitely would need stitches", I thought. I looked at the bike covered in dirt. The bike looked trashed I was really amazed it was still running after I crashed. I then picked my bike out of the ditch and looked it over to see what had happened. I noticed the clutch and mirror on the left side, the side I crashed on, were completely up side down. The air filter was just hanging on by a plastic snap, and the foot peg was bent pretty badly. However, on the good side, the chain and the motor looked okay and the gas tank and seat weren't damaged. I was so happy my new seat didn't get torn. After checking the bike over, I put everything back on and tried to start it. That didn't work; it was flooded with gas. I thought I was going to have to push it home, because no one was home to come help me and I didn't want to call my dad at work. I also wanted to fix the bike and myself before my mom got home. I decided to give it a little time to cool down and maybe it would start. While I was waiting and trying to start it, two or three cars passed me by. Then a truck passed, and I knew the kid in the passenger seat. Every now and then I would give him a ride home. They passed me and it was obvious that I needed help, and that made me really, really mad!!! Then they came back and asked me if I needed help. After we loaded my bike, I told him where I lived. I was finally on my way home. I told them thanks for the ride and they asked if I needed anything else. They could see my body was seriously torn-up with road rash. After I told them I didn't need anything else, they left. After they were gone, I went into the garage and stripped out of my clothes that were full of dirt and mud.

After being home alone, I kind of went into a panic stage. I wanted to fix everything before my mom got home. She was working out of town and would be very upset about me getting hurt. I had no idea how bad my leg and arm were, I went to the shower and grabbed two bottles of hydrogen peroxide. Once I got my leg into the tub, I pored the hydrogen peroxide on my leg and arm. I proceeded to scream profanities, and it hurt so bad I broke into tears. Then the phone rang; it was my dad. While I was talking to him, I told him what had happened. He immediately decided to come home.

By the time my dad arrived I had showered and used two bottles of hydrogen peroxide trying to wash out the gravel from my cuts. He gave me a good looking over and said my elbow might need stitches. I didn't want stitches and I wanted to play in our first football game of the season. I told my dad I was going to be okay, I just needed some time to heal. So we didn't go to the doctor. Then my mom showed up and asked the same things my dad and I had already discussed. After roughly two weeks of constantly cleaning out the cuts and scrapes, and many tubes of Neosporin, my leg started healing. I went through countless bandages and a lot of sleepless nights, because of the pain in my leg and arm. Thank goodness my parents were there to help me through this accident. They weren't even upset about the bike. I'm sure I did scare them. My mom always says, "There's nothing more important in this world than having our son alive and well".

Now, when I go for a motorcycle ride, I wear pants, a coat, and a helmet. I don't want to have my flesh spread across pavement, dirt, and gravel again.
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