The art of falling

This title may make falling sound a little too majestic, but if falling was an art, I would have mastered it by now. They say that you only become a biker after dropping your machine, well, hereby I can announce that I turn out to be a biker to the core of my being.

People sometimes forget to talk about the falling down or are too ashamed to share it with others. I’m no different, but that is going to change right here and now. My career of bike dropping started about 3 years ago during my driving lessons. While practicing to ride figure eights I started off a little too quick and while fixating my eyes in the wrong direction and trying to stir my bike in another I made my first fall. A big bruise on my leg reminded me that motorbikes actually are pretty heavy when they land on top of you. Next time, let’s fall without getting stuck beneath the bike. No sooner said than done, I dropped my bike again during the next lesson while riding over cobblestones. Luckily this time it was only the bike reaching the ground while I jumped off. Hand guard and clutch lever broken, check! During my driving lessons I managed to break a second bike, but this time without falling. During manoeuvres to practice avoiding objects and make emergency stops my throttle cable got stuck. During the first corner to start the manoeuvre I could hardly accelerate till the end of the corner when the bike decided to pick up speed. I nearly got thrown of the road, but made it by the skin of my teeth. Speeding forwards I managed to avoid the cone with the instructor screaming in my ear that I was going way too fast. I started breaking and came to a halt with my front wheel buried in the bushes. Believe it or not, I somehow passed both exams from the first time and, apart from receiving my driving license, I got the honourable title of being the first girl to break two bikes during the driving lessons.
Starting a smashing career I continued the adventure. Before leaving to India I once dropped our Yamaha Virago 250 and shortly slithered downhill with the bike on top of me. In India I lost count of how many times I dropped the bike. Most of the time I could blame my malfunctioning side stand, but of course there were some more spectacular stumbles. My first fall with the Honda Unicorn is definitely one I won’t forget. After a days riding to test our bikes the monsoon hit us on our way back to the hotel. The sandy track quickly turned into a muddy river with swarms of motorbikes fighting to make their way through. Something hit the backside of my bike and I started slithering off towards the side of the road that turned out to be a bridge without railing. Without control I moved towards a three meter deep abyss. With the front of my bike dangling above the drop I came to a halt. A little scared, covered in mud and with a slightly broken bike we reached the hotel at nightfall. What a day! Many bike drops followed this first one, but non as surprising and spectacular.
After selling our bikes in India we stumbled into Vietnam and yet again I had to start the trip with a spectacular leap towards the ground. To test the bikes we bought in Hanoi we decided to make a loop of the North. It was on the fourth day of riding that I decided to go for it. Up and till today I am not sure what happened exactly up there in the mountains. Taking a downhill left-hand turn my back wheel lost it. While the bike ended up laying down on its right hand side I hit the ground with my left shoulder and elbow. Everything seemed fine at first apart from a shattered mirror, but it only took a few minutes to notice that this wasn’t the case. My front fork was skewed, my disk brake was dragging and my shoulder was swelling up. A few days rest were in order. Surprisingly, this was the only time I really dropped my Vietnamese Honda XR125 on the road. Once I did throw myself of the bike while trying to ride onto a pretty high footpath, but, apart from a broken indicator and an elbow swollen up to the size of an apple, things were fine.
You would think that after all that falling and dropping bikes I would have learned my lesson, but nope. Once back in Belgium I continued to perfect the art of falling. Mostly I practice this talent off-road with my BMW r850gs and Honda CRF250, but apparently it was time for something new. I had never fallen on the Belgium roads, but this week I decided to bite the bullet. Riding through the rain on Jonas his Yamaha XT660Z at 90 kilometres an hour the traffic lights suddenly turned orange indicating you should stop if it is safe to do so. Even though I didn’t realise it then, this wasn’t the case. Braking hard my knobby back wheel started skating from side to side without ABS to save me. Just passing through the lights I came to a halt, but sitting high and dry up on this tall bike there was no way my legs could reach the tarmac. The bike made its way to the ground leaving me room to jump off. Apart from a broken hand guard the bike and I made it out without a scratch.
Jonas helped me pick up the machine and got it of the road. Without a doubt I got back on and we continued the ride home. After making big falls (on the road) I always feel like a failure. After a few hours however, I realise that falling isn’t failing as long as we pick ourselves up again. Courage to continue doesn’t mean that we’re not afraid, rather it means that we won’t let fear stop us from doing what we love.