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- A Precautionary Tale from Karen Ramsay
- Checkout
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Karen Ramsay tells of a close call.
It’s hard to believe I know, but there are times when I let husband Dave go riding on his own. Sometimes I feel compelled to stay home and catch up on domestic duties. It seems to be more often these days now the kids have more or less left home and there’s no-one there to do the housework or mow the lawn.
Dave recently had an incident when he was alone on his BMW F800GS. It all turned out okay so I’m sure he won’t mind me sharing his story. It’s also a reminder of how quickly things can go badly wrong, and how a really innocuous situation can turn quite serious. He acknowledges if he’d been somewhere isolated, the story could have had a very different ending. Here’s what happened in his own words…
Ramdog Dave rides alone a bit, and that has its risks.
Dave’s story
There’s something very confronting and seemingly rather pathetic when you finally accept you’re so trapped that calling for help is the only option.
What led to this ridiculous situation was a moment’s inattention on a slow, tight, first-gear turn just off the Cangai Bridge on some slightly rough, hard-packed river rocks. As I rolled through a slight dip I dabbed my right leg down and was instantly grabbed by the rear ’peg, spinning the bike around my leg and pulling me viciously down into the river rocks.
My boot was firmly wedged under the sharp centrestand pivot and carrying much of the bike’s weight. The pain was intense, and as much as I tried, I couldn’t move my foot or even rock the bike. I shut down the motor and removed my helmet and gloves to cool down and try to reason a way out on my own.
A dramatic re-enactment of how the boot was caught.
Shout out
I was in a slight hollow on the downhill side and unable to get my left leg over and into a position to help me push. There was no way to lever it and I wasn’t able to push the bike up with my hands.
Fortunately I was only 100m from the Cangai Bridge where I’d just said hello to a lady walking across, plus I’d seen a couple of women swimming in the river, so I knew potential help was close by. But the river had a gentle gurgle up and two blokes on the far bank had been cutting firewood with a chainsaw, so calling for help may well have been futile. My SPOT tracker was on and pushing our designated message to say: ‘Need help, not life threatening’ would’ve had Karen looking for someone local to come find me, but with the pain in my leg getting worse, and knowing the longer I lay there the more serious a crush injury could become, I began calling out for help…quietly at first, then gradually with more gusto and intent.
It seemed like ages, but thankfully the lady on the bridge heard me. When her friend arrived too they were able to lift the bike enough for me to get my left leg over to help kick the bike upright.
I couldn’t thank them enough and I kept apologising for the ridiculous situation I’d found myself in.
Dave and a possible new ride.
Back with Karen
You’d think a tough adventure rider would’ve taken matters into his own hands. He’s got a small saw attached to the bike, but he never considered sawing off his leg. Another option would’ve been to get his ‘poo shovel’ – a trowel attached to the bike for times he’s caught short in the bush – and dig himself out.
In all seriousness though, having been in the same situation myself, and having once found a bloke who’d been pinned under his bike near Tilpa in far-western NSW, I realised just how critical this can be. Most riders would have their own story or know someone who’s been caught in similar circumstances.
I don’t know about you, but I reckon having to call out, “Help!” when you know you’re not seriously hurt, but there’s no way you can get out on your own, would be the ultimate embarrassment.
And of course, when he told me, I was the loving, sympathetic wife and walked around the house mimicking his feeble cries for aid.
Fortunately he had the courage to yell for help,meaning his leg wasn’t badly injured and he could walk away rather than listen to me making fun of him for the rest of the evening.
KAREN RAMSAY
What I’ve learned
• The kids must have done a fair bit of housework when they lived at home
• The potential hazards of riding solo should never be underestimated
• It takes courage to ask for help in any situation
• Riding is unpredictable
• If I’d been there I would’ve taken a photo first
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