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Old 05-07-2014, 11:05 PM   #233
GRinCR OP
Oppressed Nomad
 
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Joined: Apr 2011
Location: Alajuela, Costa Rica via MN.
Oddometer: 320
Thumbs down Crash

Morning commute, 06May14:



It is four lanes, two lanes each way and I was heading eastbound with a red light 50 meters in front of me. There are no lane markings on the asphalt, cars are half parked on the sidewalk thus blocking half the right lane. I go straight though this intersection and most others go right since it dumps them directly onto the highway. I was hugging what would be the double yellow line. A man in an Isuzu NKR started easing off center with the cars Pac-Manning what would be the dotted white line in the middle of the two eastbound lanes. This is normal, he was passing the poor suckers waiting in line to go right. There are no lines painted so the lanes “technically” don’t exist and people make room where they can. Following…? I started fucking up at this exact moment.

Everyone goes right or straight here. Wrong. 50 meters from the intersection (where we were) there is the tiniest of hardware stores with two parking spots on the north side of the road. I never knew it was there, until yesterday. Many of you already know now how this story ends. But… I felt comfortable knowing everyone goes directo or derecha in this place so I put the DR in second gear, breaking my personal lane splitting rule to make sure I was around the truck before we reached the light. Unfortunately the NKR went from merging into the left lane to a full on left turn into the hardware store parking lot. I swerved but no matter. The handlebar clipped him and end of story.

When in Rome, right? I do split lanes in CR but have one rule; never get out of first gear. I made the rule after my head on with a taxi. The fact I broke this rule angers me. I am further perturbed because thinking back on it, I may have made that move any day. I was feeling comfortable in traffic. I made an assumption based on what I had never seen or taken notice of even though I pass this place five and often six times a week. The “what ifs” anger me most of all, still, right now. What if I had totaled the bike? What if I had someone on the back? What if I wasn’t the luckiest SOB on earth to somehow land on my feet? What if the bike hadn’t just slightly twisted my knee? What if I were on crutches, surgery, pins, bolts, screws? What if there was an oncoming car? What if I had been feeling this comfortable and making these assumptions in some other situation, maybe on the highway, or an empty parkway at breakneck speed!





Sorry about the downer post. Happy things to come, if I just slow the fuck down.



__________________
Greg Smith
'90 DR650RS
Costa Rica: Trippin' with GR , The Bike Teardown
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"My father taught me to work; he did not teach me to love it." -Abraham Lincoln
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