Why make a silly mistake?

Okay, this is a bit of a rant, so bear with me.

I am more than a little surprised by this. In the recent past, I've had the pleasure of meeting three people who read this blog on a regular basis. One of them asked me a question about helmets which I posted here not so long ago. You know, the one about dropping a lid and 'denting' it.

Recently, I met this chap again for a drink at a lounge bar close to both our houses. The second member of the reader troika joined us there. Since Gentleman 2 turned up in an auto and that's how he went back, so how many drinks he had does not, in the least, concern me. What does concern me is that Gentleman Number 1, who lives ten minutes away, took the precaution of carrying the selfsame dented lid to the bar, and here's where it becomes a the equivalent of sand in a swimsuit... he rode back home when we were done bantering about bikes.

The third gentleman and I also met at a watering hole, and yes, we watered. I, again, was off the motorcycle for obvious reasons and cabbed it home. Gentleman 3 person rode home, wearing a helmet. And I must – I'm OCD remember – point out that this lid is the exactly the sort of item that we like to laugh at – an imitation hard hat.

Now, I know from this person's photographs that he is in possession of a fine helmet and from what I've heard from him, and read about him, sound judgement as well. On the face of it, the former was obviously missing, and the latter chose not to make an appearance. The watering hole and the cab stand are, at this watering hole, separated by a yawning gap. So the gentleman thoughtfully offered to let me ride pillion to the cab stand. Ah but you see, I've not got my kit. That's condition one and it means I cannot get on a motorcycle, in either seat. Besides, not only am I well-watered (far from inebriated, I must freely admit though), you're three drinks down as well. Forget me riding pillion, you shouldn't be riding either. You, my friend, should have left the bike at your place and cabbed it as well. If nothing else, the walk to the cab stand would have been very pleasant. And it would have given us another twenty minutes to prolong the lovely bike banter.

It strikes me as strange that two motorcyclists, both seriously into two wheels and both deeply in love with our countersteered world would make such an obvious error in judgement. As far as I can tell, both ride safely and within their limits. Both are aware enough to either already (or aspire to) own good riding kit. Both are good men, nice to chat with, knowledgeable about motorcycling and have clear logical and rational thought processes. And yet.

I don't know if Gentleman 2 cabbed it home because he planned to drink, or it just turned out that way. But the point is, that this is a serious, even potentially fatal mistake. One that shouldn't be taken lightly. That alcohol impairs your judgement and slows your reaction time is known beyond any hint of a doubt. That alcohol in your bloodstream causes other problems is public knowledge too.

Statistically, you should already know that it close to your origin or destination that you are more likely to crash. You should also know that short, routine rides figure in far greater numbers in all manner of crash stats than the odd long tour (related links: 1 | 2| 3).

But more important is the fact that the chap driving blissfully while yakking away on his handphone doesn't care. When he hits you, the damage is the same. But if there's alcohol in your blood, it becomes your fault (see this. Look at point #7 in the Claims section). If you die, your family loses all hope of getting any aid from insurance. If you live, the car driver, who was probably at fault skips away scot free because you tippled.

A long time ago, I was a lot more militant about motorcycle safety. Oh yeah, I mean that in the past tense. I used to tell everyone to be careful, to wear helmets and so forth. I used to insist, insist and when I could, I would force people into line.

I don't do that no more. It isn't worth my time and effort. I like you, and if something were to happen to you, I'd be sorry – no matter who was at fault. But I will only try to ensure that you have all the information you need to make your own decisions. I will hope that you make the right decision.

But at the end of the day, it's your life. You can strive to preserve and enrich it. Or you can throw it away.