Twenty-Three

The mercury probably hit a million degrees this morning. That's right. A million. Celsius or Fahrenheit, take your pick. After a certain point it hardly matters.

Peeling my bike gear from my sweltering form was particularly unpleasant this morning. As was peeling my sweltering form from my bedsheets. I'm sure the temperature will increase as summer revels in its own presence. I suppose a mercy of having the summer holidays largely to myself (you know, apart from the ridiculous amount of time off) is that I don't have to ride to Robertsbridge every day when the weather is at its warmest.

Yes, yes, I know that you don't want to ride in bad weather, but having to wear all the protective gear means that you sweat like a pig if you're not moving around at fifty miles-per-hour or faster. Legally you're only required to wear a safety helmet here in Britain. It stops your head shattering like a melon if you are parted from your mechanical steed at speed.

Personally I would wear a helmet even if it wasn't required. The amount of things that go clonk or splat against my visor on a regular ride, suggests that a rider's face might become scarred, or at least pitted, if he made a habit of riding without facial protection.

As for the rest of the protection, I'd wear gloves regardless. Seeing kids (and adults who should know better) riding their mopeds, scooters, or bikes without gloves makes me cringe. The first thing you are going to do if you come a cropper is put your hands out to break your fall. Do you remember what it was like as a kid, falling down and grazing your knees and palms on the pavement? That was probably pretty damned smooth stone compared to a well-travelled road's surface. You were also much closer to the ground when you fell back then. You were also going a hell of a lot slower back then. And it hurt didn't it? That is why I wear gloves.

I also make a point of wearing a jacket. Even on a day like today, you can quickly find that riding around in a t-shirt gives you the shivers. If you ride faster than town speed for any length of time, you're going to get cold. Jackets also provide pocket space if it's of practical design. I also appreciate the back, chest, shoulder, and elbow protection that a good jacket provides. Joints like elbows and knees are usually the bits of you that take a lot of damage if you go down. It's where you bend, and those are the angles that tend to take more punishment in a tumble. Which brings me to the next item of protective clothing.

Trousers. Denim might do if you're travelling at no faster than thirty', but beyond that (and when travelling any considerable distance), I feel very vulnerable when I'm not wearing proper biking trousers with padding and knee protection. It's probably because I've ridden for so long wearing all the gear. But still. The trousers will save your knees. I find it best to think of roads as giant cheese graters, and human flesh as hunks of cheese. Sam's knee was injured in his first accident; sometimes he finds it is a little stiff. Fortunately he was wearing a full protective outfit. The paramedic who was on the scene praised the biking trousers he wore, and swore blind that if Sam had been wearing jeans that he might have crippled his knee.

And finally the boots. It only takes a slow-speed impact with the curb for your ankle to go snap. Your toes are also fairly vulnerable in an accident. In the two accidents I've had in which I've been unseated, my boots have taken a great deal of punishment and saved me from a twisted (or broken) ankle. On one occasion, the ablative titanium coated ankle plate on one of my boots actually snapped off as it took the brunt of an impact I had with the ground.

Still. After saying all that (and I realise that I've rambled something awful), I wouldn't say no to half an hour of cruising along empty desert roads on a massive low-rider. Sunglasses, handkerchief, fingerless leather gloves, open leather jacket with the sleeves cut off (or a hide-coloured jacket with tassels on it - you know the kind I mean; the stereotypical Native American Indian sort), jeans, thick boots... yeah. Maybe a big ol' duster too. Born To Be Wild playing somewhere in my subconscious. I wouldn't ride a chopper all the time, but I'd love to do it just once.

Also, as a side note, I'm twenty-three today. Mum's also fulfilling her hospital appointment. It has something to do with her thyroid problems but she doesn't seem to want to elaborate.