Since before I could walk I have always been a passenger on motorcycles – I’ve always been in love with in the way that it feels to ride.
Never having my own bike, or my endorsement, so far I’ve had to rely on other people in my life to take me out, and have always been grateful for it. This past summer I met who I like to call the “Most Amazing Man Ever”, and by chance, he just happened to ride a street bike. Towards the end of our first date he ended up taking me to the hospital because I had dislocated knee (I tripped over his foot prior to heading out for a game of pool with a girlfriend and her significant other, and I fell just the right way, dislocating my kneecap), so it ended up being about a week and a half before he took me out riding.
He was riding his 1996 Honda ST1100 then, and I can say that it was probably some of the best time we had together. For the next few weeks our schedules didn’t really match up and he had purchased a 2003 Honda CBR1100XX Blackbird over that time. One night he stopped by to take me out and it was really amazing to be on the newer bike. We were having a great time together at a sports bar that we went to, laughing the majority of the time that we were there. Later on, he was taking me home and the last thing I remember is sitting behind him on the bike, waiting for a break in traffic so we could leave the parking lot.
The last clear memory that I have was lying on my back, lights surrounding and blinding me, and me asking people around me just where Chris was. I knew that if I was there, he would be, too.
When they told me that Chris had died, I felt the fight in my leave. I was then sedated and when I came to, I was in surgery, and I passed out from the pain. We were leaving the bar, on my way to my house, when Chris decided that she should go for a ride. I accepted, of course. We made a left turn down a road that had a S curve marked for 50km/h a kilometer or two down and for whatever reason, he failed to negotiate the turns and we ended up crashing through very large rocks, an unbarbed fence, and finally, a street sign, flying into an open field.
Chris was found about 80 feet from the road, I was found another 15 feet further out from him. The bike was found about 50 yards from us in the opposing direction. One of the witnesses said that if he hadn’t crashed into the field, there would have been a head on collision with a vehicle that was turning onto the road. Of course I’ll never know exactly what happened, or why he was going so fast in the first place.
He was a terrific rider, having been on motorcycles for more than 25 years (he was only 38) and the previous year he had hit a deer while going 110km/h, keeping the bike upright. I don’t think he did this on purpose, but unfortunately I’ll never understand what happened on that night.
The injuries I sustained were numerous. My right humerous was broken in 2 places an inch apart about 3 inches from my elbow, so now I have a metal plate with 9 screws holding my arm together. My left arm was dislocated at the elbow, with my humerous almost to my wrist and my elbow close to my armpit, my radial head was shattered, and they had to give me a titanium joint.
My right leg was almost severed at the knee – the unbarbed wire fence severed my patellar tendon completely (the thing that holds the knee cap in place) and I’m told that they couldn’t find my knee cap at the scene. Most of it was hiding in my knee and a portion of it was left in the field somewhere. Five of my ribs were broken on my right side, perforating my liver and spleen and puncturing my right lung.
My right kidney was so badly damaged and swollen they were talking about removing it altogether (they talked about removing my lung as well), but I was lucky enough to keep all of my own body parts, as well as the metal that helps to hold me together.
I’m lucky to be in one piece.
Appreciate what you’ve got, you never know when it will be taken away.
Sarah Kieler
Ontario, Canada
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